Of the Divine and Folklore
by Soot
Summary: "Vampires don't exist, so how can one be sleeping in my bed?" Poor Matthew. Little does he know that his life is about to be put through a cement mixer. Arthur/Matthew. Ludwig/Feliciano. Other pairings also.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Of the Divine and Folklore

Summary:"Vampires don't exist, so how can one be sleeping in my bed?" Poor Matthew. Little does he know that his life is about to be put through a cement mixer. Arthur/Matthew. Ludwig/Feliciano. Other pairings also.

Disclaimer: I do not own and never will.

Warning: Slash, don't like don't read.

A/N: Cindi! My story has vampires but has nothing to do with Twilight. You're going to kill me. ^o^ If I go anywhere near Twilight it's going to be through ignorance. I've not read the books or watched the films. Actually the whole thing passed me by. Hahaha. (That sounded a little evil. O_o)

Anyway, read and hopefully enjoy.

…

Another days work, another lousy pay package.

Matthew inwardly sighed as he walked next to his friend and work colleague, Feliciano, while pretending to pay attention to the constant flow of announcements concerning pasta. It was half ten at night, freezing cold, and all Matthew wanted to do was go to bed after a huge mug of hot chocolate.

After that work day from hell, he deserved it.

Bidding Feliciano a good night, Matthew walked up eighteen levels worth of stairs as both elevators in his apartment building were both out of use due to maintenance. Feliciano lived just down the road so distance was no hindrance for their friendship. In fact, more often than not, Feliciano descended on Matthew's apartment to cook him pasta.

However, by the time that Matthew had hit the tenth floor, his breathing was becoming labored and all thoughts of Feliciano and pasta were long gone. By the time he had hit fifteen he was beginning to curse his bad luck for the out of service elevators. When he got to his level though, instead of feeling relieved, he felt a stab of panic race through him.

His apartment door had been forced open, and though it was still closable, it just was not lockable. Matthew blinked in surprise. Was his luck that bad that when he was out barely scrapping a living for himself, someone had robbed him of what little he had in possessions?

Matthew approached the door. He went against every ounce of sense he had by not running away and alerting the authorities. Hell, even running to Feliciano had more sense to it than what he was doing now as he stepped across the threshold of his pitch black apartment.

Search with his hands across the wall to find the light switch for the kitchen, he found it and switched it on. He thought that his kitchen would be bare or have five huge muscular men ready to beat him to death. Instead, he found everything exactly where he left it, right down to the half drunk stone cold coffee sat in the side with a tea spoon sticking out of it.

Matthew's brows furrowed.

Strange.

He walked out of the kitchen and further into his apartment, now armed with a knife just in case. The next room was the living room. He pressed the switch, but no light came from the light bulb. It had been smashed in the intruder's haste.

Matthew remained stood in the light from the kitchen that fell into the room, gripping the knife tightly. He never noticed a pair of astute eyes watching his every movement.

"Hello?" Matthew asked the room. No answer. He tried again to the same response. His eyes were slightly adjusting to the darkness of the room when he spotted a dark mass in the corner. The dark mass was not apart of his furniture. Matthew was one hundred percent sure of it.

"Who are you?" Matthew demanded, though it came out more as a quiet request. Holding his weapon higher, Matthew inched closer. To his surprise, he saw that it was a young man with the body language of one who has been hurt awfully. The light that slipped in through the window from the night outside, though not much, allowed Matthew to make out some of the intruders features now that his eyes were adjusting more to the darkness.

The young man, not much older than himself by Matthew's eye, was curled up in the darkest corner, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting against the wall. As Matthew approached cautiously, always ready to leap back and run for the door, the young man looked up at him. Huge emerald orbs met astonishing blue orbs.

Matthew felt the fear of this man seep out of him through his feet and into the floor boards. The young man in front of him looked ill. Matthew thought that he looked unable to stand up, let alone have enough power to propel himself forward and attack him.

Leaning his head to the side, Matthew knelt down next to him, ignoring his instincts to run and hide since what he felt was not fear. Something wasn't sitting right with him about the man in front of him, but he ignored it as he spoke softly to him.

"You okay?" Dumb question but he felt it had to be asked.

"Anyone follow you?" The young man asked, his British accent thick as he visibly tensed.

Matthew thought that the question was odd, but humored it all the same and replied with an honest, "no."

The young man visibly relaxed with that single word. Matthew found himself asking himself if he was being chased. Disregarding his curiosity for another time, Matthew found himself wondering what he should do. Who was this man? And what had he done to warrant breaking and entering? His mind kept screaming 'hiding' at him, but Matthew refused to jump to conclusions. He tried to see the best in everyone he met, though some times he was truly pushed in that philosophy.

The young man's eyes kept glancing towards the window. Matthew found it curious. What was he looking for, especially on the eighteenth level of an apartment building?

"Are you sure?" Spoke the man again.

"Yes. Positive." Matthew answered.

The man nodded his head slightly, his hair moving up and down the wall since he had not raised his head from its resting position to give the gesture. Complete exhaustion took a hold of his limbs as he danced on the edge of unconsciousness. Matthew saw this as he watched the man trying to fight a loosing battle to keep his eyes open.

Thinking quickly, Matthew helped the young man to his feet before proceeding to drag him across the living room to his bedroom. He couldn't find it in him to deprave the young man of a soft warm bed when he was that tired and pained. Matthew, on this one occasion, was prepared to settle for the couch. His sense and logic wanted to know what he was doing; inviting this stranger to stay in his home, but Matthew found himself unable to turn him away. If compassion was a crime, then he was guilty.

Matthew deposited the young man, who was very heavy despite his sparrow like figure, in his bed and pulled the covers over him. No words were spoken as the young man had fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

Retreating from the room after closing the black out curtains, Matthew kept asking himself, 'what have I just done? What possessed me?' He went back to the entrance of his bedroom and watched the man sleeping peacefully for a small while. This was only to compose and assure himself. The stranger looked completely harmless and, as Matthew kept reminding himself, vulnerable.

Matthew knew he was too trusting, he had fallen foul of it before, but something felt right about the young man; at least right enough to make Matthew reasonably sure that he wasn't going to be murdered in his sleep.

Sitting down heavily on the sofa after closing the door and placing a chair against it, (at least the effort was there concerning security), Matthew dozed for the remainder of the night, always conscious of the stranger residing in his room.

Come morning, Matthew felt terrible. It was his day off from the coffee shop down the road where he worked with Feliciano and, stretching, found himself grateful for the time to himself. His back ached and his legs and shoulders protested something rotten.

Walking stiffly to his room, Matthew peeped in to see the still slumbering stranger. Matthew looked down at his watch. 9:47am. He decided that he might want breakfast so waking him was naturally the thing to do. Also because he didn't want to wake him by shaking him (because he didn't know what the reaction could be and he was still very cautious), Matthew crossed the room with the intention of opening the curtains.

"Please, don't open the curtains." The sound of the British accented voice stopped Matthew in his tracks. He already had the curtains in his hands but with those words he immediately let go of the material and turned to face the stranger. He wore a concerned expression as he saw the pale, tired face and striking green eyes that were looking at him.

"Okay." Matthew replied as he moved away again. He couldn't help but notice how weak the young man was. He raised only an arm in protest to the Canadian's actions.

As Matthew walked back out the room, the idea of rousing the young man being chucked in the bad ideas garbage bin in his mind, he realized that he didn't even know his name yet. As he turned to ask though he realized that he had fallen asleep again.

Matthew took this opportunity to really study the young man. He still remembered how cold he was to the touch as he dragged him from the floor to the bed. His too pale skin, his blonde hair sprawled across the pillow, he even noticed how his lips were slightly parted revealing pearl white teeth. Two of the teeth seemed a little pointy though. Too pointy. Matthew moved closer to take a closer look and noticed how sharp and pointed the two teeth on the upper row were.

Matthew pulled back and quickly left the room, his mind racing.

"Vampires don't exist, so how can one be sleeping in my bed?"

TBC …

A/N: Isn't Matthew so kind! ^o^


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"I'm telling you the truth! There is a vampire in my bed!"

Matthew felt exasperated. What was so hard about the concept that a vampire was in his bed.

Oh yeah … the vampire part.

"Are you okay, Matthew?" Feliciano asked, worried. "Maybe some pasta will make you feel better, si? Should I come round later and make you some?"

"Err … sure." Matthew answered, deciding that if Feliciano was around at his place, then he could conveniently shove him in the same room as the vampire to prove that his imagination wasn't away with the clouds on this particular day.

Putting down the phone and ending the call, Matthew dragged his laptop out from under the sofa. It had taken five months of hard saving to buy it, and now he was grateful for his forward thinking, though at the time he never expected to have a vampire break into his house in need of his help.

Clicking on the search button, Matthew scrolled down the page of links. His first search was fruitless unless he was looking for completely nutty people who would 'invade his home and never leave' if he clicked on their site. Something are best not even going near.

Eventually, after several searches, he found a page that looked promising. It talked about silver bullets and how vampires fear them, stakes, sleeping patterns, diets, an in-depth tale of Van Helsing and the life story of Bram Stoker. There was even a page concerning famous (not book/TV) vampires which left Matthew blinking in surprise. Who wrote this? The only thing that kept Matthew on the website was the small amount of knowledge that he already had which matched up precisely with the information on the website. Any inconsistencies and he would have cut his loses and left.

What caught Matthew's eye though was the page concerning silver bullets. The vampire asleep in his bedroom matched the descriptions given for a vampire suffering from silver. Very fine pieces of silver ingested was a death sentence so Matthew ruled that one out. If that was the case, Matthew would have had a dead body to explain by now.

Deciding to check out his new theory, Matthew rose and went back to the vampire's side. He was beginning to get more confident in walking around the vampire now, but since he now had to lean over and touch him, this new found confidence wavered.

Matthew, taking a deep breath to steady his already frayed nerves, though more like cheese grated, leant over and pulled down the bed covers before reaching for the buttons. He couldn't help but hope the vampire slept through his search.

However, this was not meant to be as the young man grabbed Matthew's arm as he reached for the the buttons on his shirt, shocking Matthew. He didn't think he had the energy to move that fast.

"What are you doing?" He croaked weakly as Matthew flinched. The touch was too cold against his the warmth of his skin. Also, his eyes … they were lighter green than the stunning emerald green they had been when he first met him.

"I … I know you're a vampire." Matthew watched the young man flinch, a glint of fear crossing his face. Matthew didn't blame him. Weak and vulnerable. Perfect time for someone to try to take him out. His reaction also confirmed the fact that he was indeed a vampire like he suspected. "Something is stopping you from healing. It's just draining you of all your energy. Let me look at your wounds." Matthew looked at the blond haired vampire for confirmation, choosing his words carefully. Matthew only suspected that the vampire had wounds and was only working on an assumption. It seemed to pay off though.

"You would help me?" The blonde asked, his voice but a whisper.

"Yes." If asked why, Matthew would not have been able to tell. If he was honest to himself, he hadn't a clue why he was helping. Vampires were supposed to be the bad guys of fiction, so why was he helping one of the supposed bad guys?

"What's your name?" The vampire whispered.

"Matthew." Matthew told him, the softness of his eyes matching his voice.

"Matthew." The vampire repeated, committing the name to memory. He removed his hand from Matthew's wrist and allowed him to continue. He didn't believe Matthew would hurt him. After all the opportunities that had been open to him, he could have taken any one of them. No, if Matthew wanted to kill him, he would have done it by now. But what amazed him more than Matthew not wanting to kill him was that he appeared not to be afraid, but instead friendly and compassionate towards him; after all, he did give him a bed, kept the sun out the room and was now tending to his wounds the best he could.

To think that he had randomly picked the apartment to break into. He could have very easily have got someone the complete opposite to the genteel young man beside him.

Matthew, meanwhile, had unbuttoned the man's black shirt. He gasped at the sight that greeted his eyes. The vampires torso had bullet wounds all over and, by his eye, three of the wounds had something visibly lodged in them. Remembering the website he had found, he concluded without really looking that the chances that they were silver bullets were very, very high. Each had missed his heart and Matthew considered that was the only reason why the vampire was still around to tell the tale.

That, and this vampire was a very old vampire; meaning a very strong vampire.

Matthew saw out the corner of his eye that the blonde vampire was watching him. Swallowing hard, Matthew told him the plan. "I think they're silver bullets. Even if they aren't, they're hindering your healing and I need to get them out for you." Matthew had looked at the head board of the bed while he spoke, but now he looked down on the blonde vampire, compassion and empathy swelling his heart. The blonde vampire gave him a weak, tired smile. That was all the conformation Matthew needed to go ahead. He disappeared from the vampires side and re-appeared with some decent sized tweezers and tissues. He could think of nothing else. When he had offered anaesthetic, (which amounted to a bottle of whisky that had been stashed deep in a cupboard since Christmas), the vampire shook his head the best he could to decline it.

As Matthew started work on retrieving the bullets, he knew he was inflicting a serious amount of pain on the blonde vampire. Up until this, he had believed vampires didn't feel pain. Now he realised how much ignorance he actually had. Gasps and the occasional sharp intakes of breath were the only audible clues that the vampire was suffering. There were more physical signs however of intense discomfort. His hands gripped the bed covers tightly, his muscles tensed, his neck arched back and he ground his teeth hard, but never did he once try to stop Matthew as he continued to retrieve the silver bullets.

Matthew tried to lesson the pain as best he could, but he found that no matter what, the vampire suffered. He was becoming attached to he vampire. He didn't want to see him hurt, let alone be the one to inflict pain upon him. He thought it was strange as he worked and found his mind wondering, so he chased the thoughts away till another time.

When he had extracted the last bullet, Matthew exhaled heavily. He watched the blonde vampire relax. He could see that his actions had had the desired effect and now the vampire could heal like he should have done already. The vampire's head had come to rest on one side and though he still remained pale, his expression was a little easier around the eyes, meaning that he wasn't experiencing vast amounts of agony any more.

Matthew was about to ask if he was alright when he noticed he had fallen asleep again. Matthew could not help but smile. The vampire needed it. Also, he had read that during the day when they slept, they healed. It was only just past lunch. Matthew thought that if he healed fast enough he might be walking by that evening. He didn't know though. He wasn't a vampire expert. He only went on the little the internet had given him.

As he was about to leave, Matthew found himself thinking that the vampire was a very handsome vampire, but immediately gripped himself. Why was he thinking like that? Sure the vampire was attractive, but was it right getting attached to a blood sucker?

Shaking his head, Matthew left the bed room and started getting ready for Feliciano's arrival.

...

Matthew was laid dozing on the sofa when Feliciano knocked loudly at the door. "Matthew!" He cooed. "I brought paaaasssstttttaaaaaa!"

Matthew removed his arm that was covering his eyes. "Coming." He muttered, not caring if Feliciano heard it or not. Just as he sat up with intentions of climbing off the sofa, Feliciano materialised by his side, cooing pasta still. Matthew yawned before standing and stretching.

"Do you feel better now?" Feliciano asked, a smile lighting up his face as he referred back to their previous conversation earlier that day.

Matthew rubbed the side of his head with his hand. "Have a look if you don't believe me." Matthew pointed towards his room. Feliciano smiled his naive smile before practically skipping into the room. Matthew had always been amazed at his constant happy mood. He never appeared to be down at all. Maybe it was all that coffee he drank and all the pasta and pizza he ate? Did anybody look upon Italian food to be happy food?

Matthew followed close behind, not wanting Feliciano to startle the vampire if he chose that exact moment to wake up to find a grinning Italian inches from his nose. When he walked into the room though, he noticed that Feliciano had dropped his merry attitude and was standing quite a distance away from the bed. The vampire was staring at him.

Matthew noticed that the young man's eyes had turned from a deep emerald green to a pale, sickly green. His harsh breathing was also audible to his ears and there were those teeth again. He knew that Feliciano had seen them as he had gasped and hid behind him. On the sight of those teeth, the pale eyes and the harsh breathing, it all culminated into extreme relief that made Matthew incredibly thankful that the young man could not move. He couldn't even raise his arms. He could barely move his fingers.

Matthew ushered Feliciano back out the room and told him to make some pasta just to keep him busy. Feliciano nodded and retreated into the kitchen, grateful for the excuse not to be near the man in Matthew's bed. The eyes and the fangs made him incredibly nervous.

He started busying himself in the kitchen with boiling water for the pasta when a brief but definite knock came from the door. Feliciano went to answer it only to be confronted with a huge, blonde haired man dressed smartly with a long black over coat resting on his shoulders. Feliciano was hypnotised by the man's incredible blue eyes.

"Invite me in?" Asked the man, a thick German accent lacing his voice.

"S … s … si." Feliciano nodded like a nodding dog in the back of someone's car. The man stepped across the threshold. He didn't need to be invited in like the myths said; he was just being polite. He didn't stop in the kitchen but instead walked through the living room and into Matthew's bed room. Feliciano followed him, captivated by his presence, despite that he knew that the German was a vampire. He had seen his fangs when he spoke to him.

When Feliciano had left to go and make pasta, Matthew had retreated back into his bed room to see if the vampire needed anything. He knelt down next to him, studying him. He was having to learn fast, but he didn't read anything about this on the internet. The internet at present was coming across as being pretty ill informed if he was honest.

"I never asked what you're name was." Matthew spoke.

Just as the vampire was about to answer, the German walked into the room, closely followed by Feliciano. Matthew gave a start and retreated from the vampire he had been playing host too in the sight of the new, bigger vampire. He didn't need to be told the man was a vampire too, it was all in the presence.

"Ludwig. What took you so damn long?" The smaller vampire asked.

"You were hard to find." Came the gruff reply.

"Fucking slow poke." The vampire retorted but then left it at that as fatigue engulfed him again, sending him teetering back towards the abyss of oblivion.

With the conclusion of what proved to be pleasantries between them, Ludwig lifted the young man from the bed into his arms. The young man, despite being awake, was as limp as a rag doll. His eyes met Matthew's before they closed and remained that way, relief that he was now safe being immense and over whelming. Matthew felt that the vampire had intended on saying something to him, but as the stern vampire with shocking blue eyes glided past him carrying the now unconscious vampire, Matthew resigned himself to never knowing what he wanted to say.

The stern vampire never looked back as he disappeared out the apartment, leaving Matthew and Feliciano stunned and a little shaken.

Matthew could only think of one thing to say to end the silence that had descended on his home.

"I'm going to have to replace that door."

TBC...


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

That damn vampire.

Matthew sat with his knuckles indenting his cheeks. Work was more dull than usual, customers surly attitudes went straight over his head and his manager's bad attitude was lost on him. Nothing seemed to impress itself upon him as being significant or important … unless it was a specific blonde vampire.

Like he said, that damn vampire.

He had even dreamed about him not once, but twice. Usually when one wakes up after dreaming about someone and then go back to sleep, they don't dream for the rest of the night. However, Matthew seemed to be in the minority. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the vampire stood smiling at him, a seductive smile gracing his lips as his emerald eyes call out to him. Matthew always played along in these fantasies. He always walked up to the vampire, drawn to him like a magnet, his eyes running up and down the vampires lithe body as the vampire's pearl white fangs were on display while he smiled. Matthew felt his heart speed up several knots and his breathe catch in his throat with that smile. He would stop in front of the vampire and find himself captivated by his presence alone. The vampire would look up at him, his nest like blonde hair falling away from his face, revealing milk white skin. The vampire would then raise his hand and caress his cheek before leaning in close.

That was usually the time when someone snatched him back to the harsh reality that he wasn't with the vampire that had captured his heart, but instead in a dead end job with no prospects and a angry customer usually in front of him, hitting him over the head with what ever they had in their hands at the time. His head still hurt from being clubbed with a walking stick.

That damn vampire and his damn body.

Was this why people always went to the vampire despite the audience deeming them morons in the movies?

Errm … yeah ... more or less.

Matthew grabbed a glass of water and chucked it over his face. Luke warm. Damn. Damn. And damn again.

This was going to be a long day.

To reiterate; that damn vampire.

…

"Arthur?" A thick German accented voice asked.

"Errmmm?" The blonde vampire didn't turn his eyes away from the London twilight scene outside the window.

"Arthur!" His name sounded sharper. Arthur shook himself reluctantly from his thoughts. "Would you please forget about that kid!"

Arthur couldn't deny it to himself. His mind had spun around the young man during his every waking moment since Ludwig had taken him back and healed him properly. (A lot of blood had been required, though it never crossed his mind to care). He knew exactly what had caught him off guard. It was the fact that Matthew had helped him. Normally people try to kill him or run away screaming and tearing at their hair. Not Matthew though. Matthew had knelt down next to him and had tried to help him. He couldn't forget the softness of Matthew's face and eyes when he told him his name.

He didn't quite know what he was feeling, but he was most certainly intrigued by the young Canadian.

"The kid has a name, and it's Matthew." Arthur replied.

"Regardless; it's safer to forget, for both of you. You do remember we're being hunted?" Ludwig folded his arms across his chest.

"Of course I remember. How do you think I got injured in the first place." Arthur asked, still only half listening.

"ARTHUR!" Ludwig bellowed. Arthur raised his head only and looked at the German while he remained lounging in the chair with his legs crossed.

"Yes?" He asked innocently.

"Don't you think that you have done enough damage to yourself for one week?"

Arthur mulled the question over. Ludwig might be on to something there. He had been quite reckless as of late, enough so that he had nearly got killed (if that was possible for someone who's heart didn't beat anyway). That thought just lead back to Matthew though. It was his apartment and his kindness that was the most likely reason he was still alive to tell the story.

Arthur simply couldn't get out of his mind the image of the Canadian. His blonde, silk like hair (though he had never touched it); big eyes that expressed everything that he felt; perfect, unblemished skin; a beautiful mind and personality that had yet to be corrupted by the modern world to name but a few. Again, Arthur wouldn't deny it to himself; this lad was a one in a million find. There were only but a few who had the same qualities that amounted to being beautiful, innocent and naive all in one package.

Arthur silently vowed to talk with the young man again. He knew he was leaving London that night, but he wanted to speak to him, even if it was for the last time. He had never said thank you to him for his help.

There was his reason! It was also the nice thing to do, though Arthur only focused on the former.

A smile crossed his lips. "I insist on thanking him none the less."

Ludwig exhaled hard in frustration. "Fine, but I insist on coming with you, especially after last time."

Arthur waved his hand and dismissed the comment, though he felt a little insulted that Ludwig thought that he needed a babysitter. However, he knew from experience that when Ludwig made up his mind to do something, all the devil's minions in hell couldn't stop him.

God help anyone who got in his way.

…

Matthew once more walked with Feliciano down the street after his shift had ended. Shivering because of the cold, he pulled his coat tighter across his chest with his hand while he noticed his breath turn to vapour in front of his face. He had forgotten his scarf that morning and now he was experiencing the consequences of his neglect.

"Matthew." Came a soft whisper on the breeze. Matthew froze, his eyes widening. He blinked, thinking he had only heard the wind. "Matthew." His name sounded again. Matthew spun around in the direction his name came from to see the blonde vampire stood in the shadows of the ally.

Matthew could make out the features and profile of the vampire, despite the shadow he decided to stand in. Slender frame, light glittering in his eyes (though where that light came from was anyone's guess), blonde hair standing in stark contrast to the dark and shadows. It was only after a few seconds that Matthew then spotted Ludwig standing not to far behind him, even deeper in the shadows. Matthew could make out a not too pleased expression written across his face.

"Matthew?" Feliciano whispered as he pressed himself up behind him, scared of the blonde vampire. He had yet to see Ludwig.

"Ludwig, why don't you see that Matthew's friend gets home safely. We wouldn't want anything happening to him now do we?" The blonde vampire spoke clearly. He never looked over his shoulder to see Ludwig's expression. He already knew what it was. A piercing stare as cold as ice and an expression of restrained anger. By not looking around, Arthur didn't take up the challenge that the stare laid down.

As Ludwig walked past him, he whispered something to Arthur that was inaudible to both Matthew and Feliciano. Arthur simply smiled, his emerald eyes bright with amusement. His eyes followed Ludwig's progress as he moved towards Feliciano. Now Feliciano had seen him, he stepped out from behind Matthew, (much to Matthew's surprise), and stood captivated once more by the German vampire.

"I'm to walk you home ... ja?"

"S … s … si." Feliciano stuttered.

Matthew watched Ludwig walk down the street with Feliciano. He didn't fear for Feliciano. Okay … maybe just a little, but that was mostly because the vampire towered over his dear Italian friend. Feliciano didn't seem to mind though. Matthew saw that he loved the vampire's company (even if the German vampire … didn't _his _vampire friend say his name was Ludwig … didn't notice anything amiss at all). Yes, watching them, Matthew could see that Feliciano loved the vampires company ...

… much the same as himself loving the company of the blonde vampire.

When they rounded the corner, the vampire began to talk.

"You fascinate me." The vampire spoke as he walked out the shadows and came to stand in front of Matthew, his smile never wavering. "A human that doesn't run but instead helps a vampire in need. I must say, that's a first."

Matthew's cheeks tinted pink. He would have said that anybody would have done it, but the vampire's words would have proved that modest statement a contradiction. He hated his modesty. He eventually settled on, "you had done nothing to me, so why should I have harmed you?" The vampire nearly reminded him that he broke into his apartment and, in more ways than one, committed the act of theft. Then he decided it would be a bad idea and left it at that.

"What's your name?" Matthew asked.

The vampire kept his gaze level as he answered. "Arthur. Arthur Kirkland."

"Arthur." Matthew repeated back, just the same as Arthur had done when he had told him his name. He liked the name. It had connotations of bravery and nobility; King Arthur and Sir Arthur Wellesley to name but a few that gave him the idea.

Arthur smiled at him as he continued to study the Canadian closely with his emerald eyes instead of working from memory as he had done some hours before. Shoulder length, silk blonde hair; tall; thin but appearing to be naturally like that; wide curious eyes; perfect skin that women envied; he had found someone who not only looked like an angel, but also had the personality to match, (only if angels were viewed as being nice though. Arthur had days when he thought they were nothing but mean bastards with a hair up their ass about something. He wouldn't know though, he'd never had the misfortune to meet one).

"What are you looking at?" Matthew asked as he watched the vampire's emerald eyes travelling over his body.

Arthur smiled innocently. "I'm a believer that one should admire beauty." Matthew's cheeks flushed red. "Additionally, I would like to thank you." Matthew looked at him after dragging his gaze up from his feet, a look of curiosity across his face. A vampire saying thank you? "Ignore what the films say, we vampires are very noble." Arthur purred. "Though, it does depend upon who you come across."

Matthew nodded, captivated by the vampires words. His couldn't help but let his eyes slip slightly down to watch the vampire's lips forming the words as he spoke.

That was when he realised he was truly head over heels.

Oh shit. That couldn't be good.

Arthur could see that Matthew was under his charm. He didn't want to relinquish the hold he had over him either. If Matthew had caught his interest, then he at least wanted the Canadian to have some interest in him. Looking at Matthew though, he knew it was more than interest that he was witnessing.

He was old enough to be able to tell the difference between curiosity and lust.

Just as he was about to start to speak again, Arthur's emerald eyes turned feral and his smile disappeared. Matthew felt fear sink it's claws into him. He quickly realised though it wasn't the vampire he was scared off.

"Arthur, we meet again, da?"

A/N: Oh wow! Thank you so much guys! I love my stats page. Lots of reviews, alerts and favourites. ^o^ It's wonderful to know that what I do for a bit of fun actually entertains others.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Little vampire, little vampire,

Is this a stake I see before me?

To plunge into thee's unbeating heart,

And end ones curses-id life?

Arthur didn't know what to make of the rhyme in a literature sense, but did he truly care? That rhyme was Ivan death sentence upon him...

… and he didn't feel much like dying.

Matthew had listened to the rhyme and felt fear and dread surge through him again. He felt fear for himself. Who on God's green earth was this man? He felt dread though for Arthur considering that Ivan had done nothing but stare at him since he arrived.

Matthew didn't need three guesses to know that this new arrival was the one who had hurt Arthur and made it necessary for him to break into his apartment only a few days before.

Arthur was being hunted.

"It is lucky I came across you, da? I thought you would be curled up in gutter or drain somewhere, dying a slow, painful death." Ivan emphasised 'slow' and 'painful' with child like glee in his eyes. Arthur stared hard at him to show he wasn't intimidated.

Ivan suddenly made a charge at Arthur. Arthur had expected nothing less, but it still wasn't a fight he wanted at that time. When he fought Ivan, he liked to pick the time and place. That way he could orchestrate it to his benefit. Ivan was simply too strong. Out of all the vampires and creatures that preferred the night that he had met, all of them feared Ivan's name. His reputation had preceded him.

Despite expecting the charge, Arthur wasn't fast enough to get out of the way. Normally he would have been, but with Matthew stood behind him if he had moved, Matthew would have been face to face with his sworn enemy.

Ivan had never thought twice about who he killed, good or bad. Killing was killing for him, and he enjoyed his job immensely. He had such a blood lust that he had been known to make vampires cringe.

Ivan lifted Arthur off the ground as though he weighed nothing before sending him crashing into a building wall before dropping to the ground. Arthur rolled off his front and onto his back, only to find Ivan approaching him. With no time to get up, Arthur scurried backwards away from the Russian the best he could, hoping to put enough distance between them so he could get back to his feet without head butting Ivan's stomach.

Ivan reached into one of his pockets. Arthur watched with dread as Ivan made to chuck holy water over him. Much to his shock though, Matthew had anticipated this and stood in between him and the holy water. To the Canadian, it was just water, but to Arthur it was a world of agony, shrieks and burns.

Matthew felt the cold water hit his face and soak his hair. He blinked as some of the droplets of water remained captured in his dark eyelashes. He rose his hands to wipe away the excess of the water.

Ivan made a charge against Matthew with plans on holding him as a hostage. No one stood in front of a vampire to defend them without some motive or attachment. Arthur in turn anticipated Ivan's actions and, leaping up from the floor, snatched Matthew by the clothes on his back and threw him behind him. Ivan grabbed Arthur by the throat and hauled him against the wall hard. Arthur's feet were no longer in contact with the ground and both his hands were gripping Ivan's arm, trying to take some pressure off his throat. Matthew watched horrified as Ivan reached for his gun with the silver bullets in it. Without thinking, Matthew launched himself at Ivan, only to be thrown off with a swift blow to the ribs. He fell to the ground in agony, his eyes meeting Arthur's in terror.

Arthur ground his teeth as his eyes met Ivan's. Ivan smiled his insane smile as he reached for his gun again. "Don't worry Arthur. I'm going to dispose of your … '_interest_' too." He raised the gun and placed the barrel against Arthur's temple. "Say goodbye to your miserable, blood sucking life."

Matthew closed his eyes tightly, trying to convince himself that what was happening was a dream gone wrong. Arthur's expression was one of defiance but as Ivan made to pull the trigger, he thought it was all over.

The sound of a shot gun going off filled the ally.

Arthur fell back to the ground as the shot had thrown Ivan off him. Blinking his eyes in surprise that it wasn't him who had been shot, he looked up to see Ludwig stood at the entrance of the ally, a sawn off shotgun in his hands.

Matthew had opened his eyes again in curiosity. He didn't think that the gun Ivan had would make that kind of noise. It was a hand gun after all. His immediate relief when he saw Arthur alive though was obvious to Ludwig, who still held the Canadian in the realm of trouble maker.

Ivan groaned where he was sprawled on the ground. The shot wouldn't keep him down much longer. Arthur knew this and stood up, using the wall to aid him with one hand and massaging his throat with the other.

Ludwig sprinted past them, the gun once more safely tucked away under his black coat. Arthur grabbed Matthew's hand with intentions of dragging him behind him as he ran. However, as soon as Arthur's cool hand made contact with Matthew's warmer one, Arthur hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand to his chest. Matthew stood stunned. What had just happened? He stared at Arthur, not sure what to say as he watched the vampires wide, shocked eyes.

"Holy water." The vampire breathed.

Matthew mentally slapped himself. He had wiped the excess of the water from his face with his hands. After seeing Arthur's reaction to touching his now dry hand, he was glad he was the one to get covered in the water and not Arthur. He didn't want to think about the cries of agony Arthur would have given if the water had made contact with him.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING? RUN!" Shouted Ludwig to them just before he disappeared around the far corner.

Ivan was in the process of sitting back up with intentions of reaching for his gun with the silver bullets. Arthur knew from history that Ivan was not mortal like Matthew was. If he had been, he would have done away with him centuries ago (simply through old age). Since he couldn't though, there was only one thing to do at that time.

Run.

Arthur started running after Ludwig, making sure every ten or fifteen seconds to check that Matthew was behind him.

Several shots rung out behind them. Matthew felt two go past him and a third grazing his arm. He could feel his blood start to pool around the wound and run down his arm. He comforted himself though in the knowledge that it could have been much worse.

Ivan, now stood, watched them go, his eyes shining with a light of mental instability. He would let them go this time. He liked hunting them. What would he do with himself when he had finally done away with them? Also, he now knew the lead vampire's soft spot.

Yes, he would let the little rabbits go this time.

He would be holding all the cards next time.

They won't be so lucky.

...

Arthur began to wonder if Ludwig would ever stop running. Not that he was having a problem keeping up with him; it was Matthew who was having the trouble. A long day at work does exhaust people. Also, he didn't have the additional strength granted to vampires.

Arthur was on the verge of throwing Matthew across his shoulders (taking care to miss where the holy water had hit the Canadian) when Ludwig turned into the entrance of an underground car park. The whole place was dimly lit and damp.

Deep inside, Ludwig stopped, secretly relieved that Arthur still had the ability to run after him. When he had first seen Arthur pinned against the wall, he didn't quite know what to expect. However, the Canadian was behind Arthur. This displeased his greatly. It was the Canadian's fault that they had had another run in with Ivan. If it hadn't been for him, they would have been out of London by now and Ivan would have been off their scent for a few days.

So much for how he wanted things to work out.

He would take it up with Arthur later.

"Who was that guy?" Matthew asked Arthur before looking back over his shoulder to check they hadn't been followed.

"That was Ivan." Arthur told him. "And he's made it his life passion to give us hell."

"He's doing his job." Ludwig reminded.

" You what my son? He's a right proper naughty, moody geezer!" Arthur eyes flashed with anger as his mind thought back to his latest encounter with the Russian.

"What?" Matthew asked. Against popular belief, he hadn't been in England that long and he didn't understand that sort of lingo yet.

"Oh. Sorry. Slipped into cockney there." Arthur flashed him a smile in apology.

"Still. He thinks it's his job." Ludwig broke in to stop a conversational tangent developing. It would be his luck to have both the Canadian and Englishman talking about chips in newspapers before long. Not very productive. "It is his job. He never ages."

"Just like us." Arthur commented dryly, a bitter undertone to his voice.

"He seemed to know you personally Arthur, like you go way back." Matthew said curiously. Ludwig looked up at Arthur with that comment.

"We've had many run ins over the years." Arthur dismissed the statement. Matthew knew there was something more to it, but decided to leave it alone. What Arthur said wasn't a lie; it just wasn't the whole truth, and now that his safety depended on the two vampires he wasn't about to go and fall out with them.

Ivan now knew him as a sympathiser (and an interest of Arthur's that Ivan had correctly denoted as blossoming love). If that didn't slap target across the Canadian's forehead, nothing would, though both were still oblivious that Ivan had reached that conclusion as they themselves hadn't reached it yet. Arthur knew lust when he saw it, but he was yet to understand what he felt or realise that the two of them had chemistry.

"What am I going to do?" Matthew asked. He was about to continue, but he was frightened of making Arthur think he regretted helping him.

Arthur looked at Ludwig. Ludwig's face dropped.

"Nein."

"Why not?"

"It's our home."

"I own it."

"He'll be among our kind."

"He'll be safe."

"Not with that perverted Frenchman around."

"Could say the same about your brother."

"You'll be sorry."

"Don't see how I will be."

Matthew watched the two quickly fight it out. Was Ludwig really as cold as he looked and acted?

Arthur ended the bickering by waving his hands in front of him and making a noise a bit like a angry bee. Matthew couldn't help but smile. He could tell that this was how they usually acted around one another.

Arthur turned to him, a delighted and reassuring smile on his face.

"Want to meet the family?"

A/N: Yes everybody, Ivan is back! Actually I don't think he went anywhere. ^o^ He's too well loved for that despite his … *cough* … tendencies. ^_^ And holy shit! First time for everything! I wrote a little poem. Granted, terrible poem with some word coinage thrown in, but I wasn't going for the 'now lets dissect this and see if Ivan has put any hidden meanings in it'. It was more … everyone, it's now the time to shit bricks.

I have the most colourful vocabulary. Thanks Arthur! ^o^


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"What? Ludwig, _this_ is a stolen car." Arthur half laughed in disbelief.

"It doesn't matter, now show it some respect or you're walking."

"I thought vampires could fly." Matthew spoke up from his seated position between the driver and passenger seats.

"Another stereotype." Ludwig replied.

"It's one stereotype I wouldn't mind having though." Arthur commented dryly with a brief side nod of his head.

"We've made good time. Fortunate the roads were empty." Ludwig grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"That's because you did 110 mph down the M25 and went even faster down the A1!" Arthur replied. "God help the poor fella this car actually belongs too. Think of all those speeding tickets he's going to get through the letterbox. I've seen at least five go off."

"Won't the court rule that he won't have to pay them, considering we stole the car?" Matthew asked.

"I hope for the sake of his wallet they do." Arthur replied, resting his head back against the head rest, exposing his neck even more as he turned his gaze out the window. He also found it fortunate that it was winter. Longer nights. He didn't much fancy descending on a B&B again and knocking ten years off everyone's lives through fright.

Who said vampires couldn't be compassionate?

Conversation quietened down in the car, leaving each to their own thoughts. Arthur continued to look out the window, finding comfort in the dark woods. His mind floated back to his latest run in with Ivan. What struck him was how much of a hurry Ivan was in. It seemed … rushed … disorderly. Not the usual tactics of mocking, keeping him guessing as to what his next move was going to be. Ivan this time had acted like a bull; he had simply charged after a few sparse words.

Was he changing tactics.

No, impossible, not after all this time.

What was he up to?

Arthur was deeply worried. His worry was apparent to Matthew as the Canadian watched him closely. Vampires seemed to be masters of flicking between moods gracefully. Ludwig watched the Canadian in his mirror, noticing how he looked at Arthur. He didn't like it. He thought Arthur was making a mistake not only by giving the Canadian refuge, but by becoming attached to him. He had seen it in his eyes earlier that night; he felt something for him. Ludwig equated all this to nothing other than disaster. The seeds had been sown now, and sooner or later, something was going to happen.

They drove on a short while longer before entering a clearing. Matthew at first thought it was a joke. That or the scenery around where ever they were going was fantastic. A castle? What the …?

The first light of day was breaking as they pulled up, the dark trees deprived of their leaves looking intimidating. Ever increasing amounts of the sky became flame orange, the light chasing the remaining darkness away in its battle for dominance.

Matthew made to open his door but found he couldn't. Arthur looked round at him.

"Child locks." Ludwig grumbled as he got out.

"Child locks?" Arthur and Matthew said in unison before looking at each other, two surprises coming in as many seconds. Sighing while simultaneously smirking, Arthur climbed out and opened Matthew's door from the outside. Matthew, having been noted in his job as not being the most graceful person to have ever graced the earth, tripped getting out and fell on Arthur. Arthur caught him, a little good humoured chuckle escaping his lips. Matthew looked up at him with words of thanks only to capture his gaze.

Both remained staring into the others eyes until Ludwig cleared his throat to gain their attention again. It was some what rude, but with the sun coming up, he didn't really want to be outside much longer.

Arthur, if the ability of blushing had still been within his power, would have blushed till his cheeks burned. Matthew however still had the ability and turned into a tomato. Well, more like a beetroot actually.

Both corrected themselves quickly before proceeding in to the castle. Matthew couldn't keep the expression of awe off his face as he admired the architecture. This was Arthur's home? He recalled him saying he owned where ever they lived.

Stood in what Matthew presumed to have been a throne room in history long past which had now been converted into a huge _'living room', _the first thing that struck him was the amount of nationalities present. He already knew that Arthur was English and Ludwig was German, but this little clan didn't have two of any nationalities ... or personalities for that matter.

While he was thinking this, Matthew felt hot breath on his neck. A bolt of terror shot up his spine as he spun around to find himself face to face with another blonde haired vampire. This one was taller though, and his hair was longer. He also had the beginnings of a beard going on. Matthew couldn't help but wonder if he was going for the 'I'm a male modal' appearance before his mind could completely shut down in blind panic.

"Oh, tasty!"

"Get away from him, Frog!" Arthur growled as he took a defensive position next to Matthew. If Francis touched Matthew, he would be missing at least one limb before ten seconds were up … and that was if his luck was good.

"You we're never polite Monsieur Kirkland." Francis huffed, insulted.

"He's not food!" Arthur snarled. "If you're hungry, go out and find something yourself instead of relying on the rest of us."

Matthew didn't quite know where to look considering where the conversation was going.

"I wasn't staring at his neck!" Francis defended, making Arthur give a hoot of laughter. "I was just thinking how pretty he is. You may be foul mouthed, but you have exceptional taste. I don't blame you keeping him as a trophy … or a pet."

Arthur felt enraged at the Frenchman's low opinions on both himself and the Canadian. "He's not a trophy or a … _pet!_" Arthur spat the last word in particular. "If you don't desist in this mindless pap, then I'm going to boot your pathetic French ass out on the door step so you can toast to a crisp."

"Pleasant." Francis spoke before turning and stalking away, his feelings hurt.

"Berk." Arthur rolled his eyes at the retreating figure. "Forgive him, he's a pervert."

Matthew smiled, relieved that Arthur seemed to be completely on his side. No vampire in the room was going to lay a hand on him while Arthur was around. With that knowledge, Matthew found he could breath easily again.

"Who's that?" Matthew asked, a vampire reclined in an expensive, very old, yet very looked after chair having caught his attention.

"Errm?" Arthur turned his attention to the direction which Matthew was looking in. "Oh, that's Roderich. He's nice enough. Very sombre though. It's hard to get much from him. He sits for hours at a time at the piano over there and composes music based on what he feels at the time. We're fortunate he can actually play. If he couldn't we would have thrown the piano out the tower window by now to get some peace."

Matthew smiled at the humour, but at the same time realised that would actually have happened. "Piano. Reminds me of Venice. Is he Austrian?" Matthew took a stab in the dark. Arthur nodded his head, his blonde hair bouncing with the movement. "He seems … down. Why?"

"We're not clear on it ourselves actually. Something to do with love." Arthur informed. "He doesn't speak of it."

Matthew instantly felt very sorry for the lone figure, aristocratically dressed, reclined with a wine glass of blood perched in a pale hand, his eyes vacant. It seemed to him that vampires had more of a hard time than they deserved, especially in modern culture.

"What in the name of Greek buggery is going on in here?"

Matthew looked around to see a walking, talking suit of armour stood in the door (that lead to the dungeons). He paled. What the hell went on around here?

"Gilbert." Ludwig spoke from his stood position.

"Bruder!" The suit of armer called out, delighted. "Kill anybody?"

"Oh good lord!" Francis exclaimed. "So barbaric! What's wrong with making love and drinking wine."

The suit of armour manoeuvred haphazardly further into the room. "We don't drink wine, we drink blood, remember?"

"Bruder, I wish you would stop this foolish behaviour." Ludwig rumbled, his arms folded across his chest as he watched his brother progress slowly across the room, making an awful lot of noise as he did so.

"Now why would I do that? I enjoy what I do!" Gilbert smiled, revealing glowing crimson eyes as he lifted the visor. The visor shot down again, making Gilbert huff a curse. Matthew had a hard time working out how the two brothers were related. Arthur had whispered in his ear that Ludwig was German (which was something that he already knew simply by listening to him speak) and Gilbert was Prussian. Matthew however was too busy trying to regain composure to catch how they were two different nationalities and yet still brothers.

"Which would be?" Francis inquired.

"None of your damn business, you damn frog." Gilbert shot back.

"That's not fair!" Francis cried out in despair. "You sound like that infernal Englishman over there! Why do you always pick on me."

"Because it's so easy to get under your skin." Gilbert smirked, his eyes ablaze as though he was planning something. Francis caught sight of this and cried out again.

"Evil! Evil!" He screeched, his finger pointing at Gilbert before spinning it round at Arthur. "And you encourage him! I want to go home! I want to go back to my beloved France."

"Door's always open." Arthur replied.

"So you do want rid of me!"

Matthew could see that with the lack of reaction on Ludwig's or Roderich's part, that all of this was pretty normal. It was probably their form of greeting. Sure, it was more than a little cruel to torture a Frenchman into crying as a form of friendly affection to one another, but who was he to say differently. He was now in their world. His world and it's rules no longer applied.

"I'm going to sleep." Ludwig walked out the room. Roderich stood up and followed silently, grateful that someone had finally said the thing he had been waiting for. There was now too many people around. He might get drawn into a conversation he rather not have.

"I'll show you where you'll stay." Arthur lead Matthew away and up some stone stairs. The more they climbed, the more Matthew wondered about what his accommodation was going to be like. It was going to give him a marvellous view, especially come spring and summer.

They started walking down a corridor, Matthew still trailing behind Arthur. However, when Arthur finally turned into the room that he intended for Matthew, Matthew's eyes widened as he saw it for the first time.

The room was spacious, a huge, hard wooden bed stood in the middle, dominating and eye catching. A writing table and chair were also present, made from the same hard wood as the bed, carvings running up each leg of the furniture. Matthew couldn't tell what they were of from where he was stood, but when Arthur left him he intended to find out. The entire room, though sparse, was beautiful. It even had a more modern aspect with its thick velvet curtains. Matthew could guess why – it blocked the sunlight out.

Arthur walked around the room, inspecting it with a quick keen eye as he trailed his fingers lightly across the surface of a writing table, the end of the bed and the thick, velvet curtains. "I hope this satisfies your needs." He spoke softly.

"Oh, yes!" Matthew spoke, delighted at the room he was being given to use. He turned his head away from Arthur, his eyes still drinking in the room with child like glee. This meant his missed Arthur's expression of immense sadness, loneliness and longing directed at him. By the time that Matthew looked back at Arthur, Arthur had gotten control back over his emotions and the straight face was back in place.

"You can forget about Ivan for as long as you are here." Arthur put to rest feelings of unease that Matthew had had since they had that narrow escape from the Russian. "He can't get us." He offered no explanation and Matthew wasn't about to probe for it.

With a quick good night, Matthew watched Arthur leave. He didn't know where he was going to sleep. Stereotypically, vampires slept in coffins in dark dank places like dungeons or cellars. However, Matthew now knew not to jump to conclusions. One thing he had not expected though was to get booted out the car at South Mimms Services to go wash the holy water off himself. Considering he had fallen against Arthur, he now considered it brilliant foresight.

Arthur, when he left though, seemed to have an undertone of being troubled.

Matthew, though he had not been given permission, decided that he was going to explore the castle. He had read books as a young boy. He was fascinated by the prospect of secret passages, hidden rooms behind huge paintings and the history of past battles, kings and queens and the kingdoms they ruled over.

"Who are you?"

Matthew turned around and saw himself in the mirror. However, he quickly realised that it wasn't a mirror, nor a reflection of himself.

He was stood looking at a ghost … that looked just like him!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"For the love of maple". Matthew breathed, shocked. "Ghost!"

"GHOST! WHERE?" The ghost shrieked.

"What …?" A sudden fatigue came over Matthew. This was simply too much for one day. "You're a ghost. You are _the _ghost I'm referring too!"

"Oh … yeah … right … sorry about that". The ghost smiled faintly in apology. Matthew sat down on the side of the bed, finding it hard to resist temptation to lay down and go to sleep. The bed was very comfortable. Too comfortable.

"The name's Alfred!" The ghost started to smile an idiotic grin.

"Matthew." Matthew nodded.

"Hey! We're related!"

"What?" Matthew asked, always reminding himself that this wasn't the weirdest thing to have happened to him that day.

"Look at us, we look like twins!" Alfred exclaimed, causing Matthew to flinch as he was jolted back out of a light doze.

"And what does that mean? It could be coincidence."

"No! We're defiantly related!" Alfred tried to slap Matthew on the back but his hand instead of contacting Matthew's shoulder went straight through the Canadian, causing Matthew to yelp in surprise before launching himself back off the bed.

"Okay, okay! I really must be dreaming now! Vampires is one thing, but when ghosts who claim to be a relation try to slap you on the back, a line has to be drawn!"

"Line? Drawn?"

"You know, a line that sets how far something can go. Don't step over it! In your case don't go near it." Matthew felt irritable due to lack of sleep.

"Oh … I'll nod and smile and pretend to know what you're yapping on about!" If the ghost wasn't a ghost, Matthew might have slapped him for that comment. He no longer had the energy to punch.

"What do you want with me right now?" Matthew asked. "Go torment someone else." He had a certain Frenchman who breathed down his neck in mind.

"Arthur doesn't see me. He hasn't seen me for centuries." Alfred replied with a shrug of the shoulders and his smile falling away and becoming a mournful expression.

"You were close?" Matthew asked, regretting his earlier words.

"Yes, very." Alfred looked solemn. Matthew didn't think it was possible at first, but a lone tear rolled down Alfred's face.

"Do you know how Arthur became the owner of this castle?" Matthew thought if anyone was qualified to answer that question, it was the ghost stood in front of him.

"Didn't you know, Arthur's a prince." Alfred stated, making Matthews eyes open wide in shock. "I was hired to look after the King's horses." Alfred started to tell his story. "That was how I met Arthur. One day I was grooming a horse when he rode past. I had heard about the King's son. I had heard people speak, showering him with compliments concerning his hair, his skin, his beauty, his clothes, everything. When he rode past me for the first time, he was all that, everything they had said, yet it seemed to me that they did an injustice. A gross injustice … and there was me stood up to my knees in horse dung." Alfred gave a small laugh at the memory.

"_Arthur!" Alfred called as he saw the prince stood staring out at the placid lake. _

_Arthur turned and looked, his head tilted to one side with his eyebrows furrowed as he watched Alfred approach. He looked comically adorable to Alfred, the look of sweet confusion present on his face resulting from Alfred knowing his name. It was the first time Alfred had spoken to him. _

"_Who are you? And where have I seen you before?" Arthur asked, sudden aggression in his voice due to being caught off guard. Alfred just smiled. _

"_You rode past me the other day." He continued to smile which irritated Arthur no end. Alfred saw this and laughed loudly. "My dear prince, I was the stable boy you rode past only the other day."_

_The phrase, 'my dear prince', made Arthur's blood boil, but the rest of what the taller young man said clicked home with him. "Oh yes, I remember." Arthur spoke cautiously. "So that gives you the right to stalk me?" Okay, maybe not cautious … more outright blunt and too the point. _

"_This meeting is mere coincidence. I come here all the time." Alfred lied. He could see that Arthur was going along with it for the best part. He seemed convinced, but he had been warned that the prince had an sharp mind; any contradiction in what he said would be picked up upon immediately. Besides, he just wanted to be near the prince. _

"_Oh really, why haven't I seen you here before then?" Arthur asked, his hand ready to draw his sword resting on his hip. _

"_Perhaps I didn't come out the trees because the beauty I witnessed was overwhelming." Alfred hinted. _

"_So you we're stalking me!" He cried and drew his sword, making Alfred yelp and stumble back, putting some much needed distance between himself and the prince. _

"_Hey hey!" Alfred motioned with his hands he meant no harm. "Put the sword down! I'm innocent! For god sake, don't run that thing through me!" _

_Arthur watched with fascination at Alfred's instant reaction. He unconsciously lowered his sword. "What's your name?" _

"_My name? It's Alfred. You're not going to attack me with that are you?" Alfred asked pointing at the sword with some evident fear. _

"_What … no, unless you attack me." Arthur replied simply. "So what are you doing here?" _

"Our first meeting was … well … interesting." Alfred smirked. "I never let him live down the sword incident. I thought he was going to use it to turn me into a type of delicious snack food."

"It sounds like you gave him a fright." Matthew laughed. He could just imagine Arthur waving a sword about like a mad man fighting the very air he breathed. "So, what was the outcome of your first conversation."

"A punch to the jaw initially. It wasn't a tap either, it was freaking hard! Knocked me clean over. I thought that was that and I would never see him again. Much to my surprise he turned up in the stables two days later with an very rehearsed, but very stuttered and reluctant apology."

"You took the apology?" Matthew asked.

"It wasn't easy for the guy. He's never been good at saying sorry. Like the time he shoved me off the back of his horse for tickling him. I never got one of him that time. I got a scowl instead." Alfred laughed. "It's just how he is. It wasn't his upbringing, it's just him!"

Matthew covered his mouth with his hand to stop himself laughing too loud. "He shoved you off his horse?"

"Yeah!" Alfred exclaimed, his mouth open and nodding like a nodding dog. "He also slammed the door in my face several times and pushed me into the lake for saying his eyes were beautiful. Take it from me, that guy can't take a compliment!"

"So, what happened next?" Matthew asked, delighted by the story so far. Alfred's highly strung way of telling it made him laugh.

_Alfred's fingers were nimbly working on Arthur's clothing as Arthur laid beneath him, pinned to his own bed. The gasps and moans that Alfred had retrieved from him by simply kissing him and running his hands through his hair had been but merely a start. Now Arthur was starting to lose his clothes and he didn't mind for a moment, his emerald eyes alight with excitement. _

_Alfred pushed the last layer of clothing back from Arthur's shoulders before lightly kissing the milk white skin that had previously been concealed. Arthur gave a shaky sigh in pleasure as Alfred's hands began to roam his chest and stomach. _

_Unnoticed by both of them, the door opened slightly and a pair of eyes looked in upon them. Just as quick, the door was closed again and the eyes were gone. _

"_Alfred, we can't do this." Arthur tried to speak evenly as Alfred continued to assault his shoulder and neck with his mouth. _

"_What?" Alfred pulled back just far enough to get the words out without muffling them. Arthur cupped Alfred's chin and made him look up. Alfred saw the concern in Arthur's eyes and sat up, allowing Arthur to follow him. "What's wrong?" _

"_Why should we hurt each other? Nothing but pain will come of this." Arthur looked down cast as he pulled his clothing back up over his shoulders. _

"_I would never hurt you and you know that." Alfred told him, making Arthur smile a genuine smile in response. _

"_I know."_

_Arthur climbed off the bed, leaving Alfred to make himself comfy as he watched Arthur going about his room in a restless manor, fixing his clothes and hair (though his hair didn't look much different than it did originally. It still looked like a birds nest). _

_Alfred slipped into a light doze when the door burst open, waking him up and making Arthur jump. Arthur's father stood there with his uncle Ivan stood behind him, two guards dragging Alfred from the bed and out the room. _

_Ivan was the only one with a smile on his face. _

"Ivan is Arthur's uncle!" Matthew exclaimed in horror.

"Yep."Alfred confirmed. "You met him?"

"Yes. Didn't think much of him." Matthew replied, his mind troubled.

"Understatement of the year."

"_It was me." Alfred said defiantly. "It was all me. I forced myself upon him." He looked straight into Arthur's eyes, the silent message to remain quiet passing between them. Arthur tried to protest but found that no words were at his disposal. _

_The king leapt upon the possibility of getting his son off the charge. _

"_You will stand by your words? You speak the truth?" _

"_Yes." Alfred answered firmly. Backing down meant Arthur would hang with him. The law of the land was ruthless. _

"_Bu … but …" Arthur tried to speak once again. _

_A hand came to rest on his shoulder and drew him out the room. When they were outside and down the stone hall, Arthur turned to see the person who had guided him away was his mother. _

"_Don't argue my darling," her silk voice giving Arthur some much needed comfort, "It's a wonderful thing he has just done for you." A delicate hand rose and caressed his cheek. "Self sacrifice is a mark of true love."_

"_What...? How...?" Arthur asked in a daze. _

"_A mother has a way of knowing these things." She replied, her hand rising from his cheek to his hair, brushing some strands away from his face. "I also know that you spoke the truth when you said nothing happened between you. You are forward thinking Arthur, you won't commit yourself to something that you know you can not have, including love."_

"The Queen was a very astute woman." Alfred said with a smile. "Even to this day I think that if she had not removed Arthur from that room when she did, he would have eventually found his voice again and incriminated himself along with me."

"Did Arthur tell her what was going on between you?" Matthew asked.

"Like I said, she was very astute, educated woman; with timeless beauty may I add." Alfred smiled. Matthew tilted his head to the side in puzzlement. "What? Just because I prefer men doesn't mean I can't admire beauty in the fairer sex! Anyway, like I said, she didn't need telling."

"She?" Matthew asked, thinking it was a bit rude to keep referring to a lady as 'she'.

"What … oh! I didn't know the Queen by any other name than 'The Queen'. Social status wasn't great enough. Arthur never referred to her by any other name than mother." Alfred shrugged and dismissed it.

_Arthur gasped as he saw Alfred being led out. He turned and looked at his father, pleading silently with his emerald eyes for him to step in and do something. His father simply looked at him and shook his head. _

_Arthur felt cold. _

_He turned his attention back to Alfred who now had a noose around his neck. He fought the need to sit down as he began to tremble. Nothing had happened! Nothing had happened! Why were they hanging him? Why! _

_A feeling of dizziness came over him and he blinked several times trying to rid himself of it. However, when the rope went taunt and a shrill cry of, 'his neck did not break', sounded out above the crowd, Arthur's vision went black. His legs crumpled beneath him and he was sent crashing to the ground. Instantly a group of royal servants surrounded him and the call for a practitioner went out. _

"It's pretty fast you know, coming back as a ghost? No paperwork." Alfred reclined back on the bed, leaving Matthew sat crossed legged next to him, listening to the story with great interest. The thought of how Alfred could be lounging on the bed next to him came and went as the story took greater priority.

"How fast?" Matthew asked, curiosity lighting his eyes while he fought to keep his upset unseen.

"Almost instantaneously. Needless to say, it happened so fast that I witnessed them carry Arthur's unconscious body back off to the castle".

_Alfred was surprised that, as a ghost, he still had the power of tears. _

_He found this out as he stood and watched Arthur tossing and turning in a fever, his cheeks flushed and his hair sticking to the sweat that beaded on his forehead. He put it down to shock. He was distraught, but in a convoluted way he was also happy that Arthur had fallen into such illness as it proved that he did actually feel for him like he (eventually) got him to admit too, (and in as few as possible words). None of what he said had been a lie, and his illness was symbolic of it. _

_Alfred stood and watched people come and go over a number of days. He witnessed the Queen weeping over her deteriorating son; the King chewing his lips and nails with guilt and worry if his only heir to the throne was going to perish; he witnessed the servants going around doing their duties with a sense of melancholy and he saw how everyone when in the presence of the sick prince lost all sense of happiness and immediately fell into a sense of upset and unease. _

_All except Ivan. _

_He had his eyes set on the throne and it would be his if Arthur died. The last obstacle then would be the king, and being a very young man, he would simply have to bide his time for a few years, if that. Arthur's father wasn't a young man any more and illness had been plaguing him as of recent. _

_One night, Arthur opened his eyes which shone with alertness for the first time since he had been struck down. His cheeks were still flushed and his body weak, but he had a sudden desire to get out the castle and to see the lake again. He had dreamt of nothing but the lake. He needed to see it again. _

_Climbing unsteadily out of bed, he dressed with great effort and made his way out the castle. It was the middle of the night so he was not spotted as he would have been during the day. As he stepped outside, a cold night breeze met him. He welcomed it against his hot, feverish skin. _

_His eyes still shone though with no trace of fever. _

_With great effort he climbed onto his horse and rode off, tightly holding on to steady himself._

_The lake shimmered in the moonlight as he arrived. Tranquillity reigned over the area and it was hard for Arthur to believe that after his heart break, everything could just continue as it had done. It proved to him that nature, though beautiful, was cold and hard. _

_Arthur dismounted with great difficulty and when he first tried to walk, his legs gave out and sent him to his knees. He recovered though and continued to slowly make his way to the edge of the lake. Once there he stood and looked out over the placid water. The night air settled him and cleared his mind. He found some unknown strength as he stood, his mind at peace for the first time in what seemed like years. _

_A hand grabbed his shoulder and spun him round. Arthur felt a cold blade enter his stomach. He gave a small gasp in response as he looked up into his uncle's eyes, confusion and shock the only expressions on his face. Ivan leant in close and whispered into his ear; "It was I who told your father about your love interest." _

_Arthur fell to his knees, his hands pressed against his stomach, his mind reeling. Ivan stood over him, his head tilted to one side as a insane smile grew across his face. Arthur's world began to sway as crimson blood seeped away between his cold fingers. He fell to his side and came to rest on his back, staring at the half moon in the dark sky, dim stars dotted around it, their brightness increasing the further away they got from it. _

_He heard Ivan's footsteps moving away from him back towards the castle. He tried to call out for help, but words by this time were impossible. He thought of Alfred and briefly considered the possibility of seeing him again. His vision became black around the edges as his eye lids became heavy. _

_Suddenly someone knelt down next to him and placed a slender hand across his brow. Arthur was too tired to care though and drifted into unconsciousness as a pair of fangs bit down into his neck._

_Later, the lone figure carried Arthur's limp body off into the forest. _

"Wow." Matthew breathed. "Why didn't you follow?"

"I'm tied to the castle. I can never leave it." Alfred shook his head. "He turned back up decades later, not that I kept count of the time or anything. By the time he got back, the entire place was deserted. His father died of illness within the year. The throne went to Ivan. Not a coronation I ever want to witness again. He also married Arthur's mother but she died three days after from a broken heart. Losing her husband and son all in one year took its toll on her."

"Ivan was a bad ruler?" Matthew asked then kicked himself for it.

"Not half!" Alfred exclaimed. "It's why Arthur came back to a deserted castle and kingdom."

"That aside, why is Ivan still around? Shouldn't he be dead and in the ground?" Matthew asked bluntly.

"Ivan saw him on a hunt once. It was twilight from what I've understood from the stories. Arthur stepped out from behind a tree and Ivan was so shocked that he fell of his horse." Alfred cracked up laughing. "That'll teach the bastard!"

"Didn't though did it." Matthew reminded.

"Nope. It didn't. Sold his soul to the devil to get Arthur when the kingdom disintegrated between his fingers."

"Sold his soul to the devil?"

"You find that hard to believe when you're falling in love with a vampire prince?" Alfred asked making Matthew splutter. "Besides, that Prussian can stand on his own as a phenomena. That vampires insane! Likes kittens though. Few years back the castle was infested with those tiny balls of fur. Arthur blew like Krakatoa."

Matthew stopped spluttering and started laughing in disbelief, both at the sudden change of subject and the absurdity of it. "Kittens?" He recalled a cursing suit of armour in his mind who asked his brother if he had killed anybody like it was a joke.

"Yep, but anyway, you now know the story. Arthur roams. That's how everyone else got here. Found them on his travels and one by one they accompanied him back. He's had a few angry mobs chase him in the past. Between you and me, I think he kept provoking them on purpose."

"Reckless much?" Matthew smirked.

"Very." Alfred confirmed.

"Hey, Alfred, can I ask you something?" Matthew was struck with a spark of brilliance.

"Yeah sure."

"Can you show me around this castle?"

A/N: Sorry for the slow update. Between school, Bar Mock Trial and birthdays I've hardly had time for anything else. I wrote this update over the period of a week, and I had to bluff my way through a law quiz because I wrote instead of revising unlawful act manslaughter. Rebel or what! ^o^ Oh, and the steady stream of answers shall continue!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Alfred, despite Matthew's initial worries, was quite a good tour guide.

His knowledge of the castle was second to none. Matthew had been down so many secret passages that his mind was spinning. The fact that he had come across no coffins did not surprise him though. Alfred didn't seem to have a problem with vampires like he did ghosts (though that might be because he was in love with one, or that he had been around them for centuries and had simply grown use to them), but Matthew felt that it was more likely in his own interests that they went no where near them. Matthew recalled the meeting with the French vampire who still gave him the creeps and quickly concluded that he did not want to meet him on his own … ever.

Alfred walked out the passage through a portrait, leaving Matthew trying to feel for anything that would swing it open for him. All this excitement and adventure took away his desire for sleep. Alfred stuck his head back through, giving Matthew an interesting view, one of which he never thought he would see.

"Press there". His hand appeared through the portrait as well, making Matthew think that it might just be easier (or no extra effort at all) just to step back through the portrait to help him. Matthew could see what Alfred was pointing at and pressing on the loose brick sticking out slightly, the portrait swung open to a corridor and Matthew stepped out, making sure to push the portrait back into place so that no one else knew that he knew about that passage.

Turning with the intention of walking behind Alfred as he had been doing, Matthew saw a sight that made him stop in his tracks. He frowned and his brows furrowed as his eyes focused upon the sleeping Prussian vampire of who's name was a complete lose to him. Since when did vampires sleep sprawled in the corridors of castles? Didn't they have a nice, dark, silk lined, old fashioned, wooden coffin with their name on it?

And what was that in his arms? And on his lap? And sat on top of his head (fighting a yellow bird so as not to fall off)? And sat straddling his shoulders?

Kittens.

Arthur would do his nut!

Matthew stood staring in amazement at the sight before him. There must be more than five kittens sat on him, purring away, their tiny bodies perfectly relaxed. Matthew suppressed the want to go 'awwwww'.

"Yep". Alfred nodded to himself. "If Arthur saw this, he would shout till he's either blue in the face or the wall falls down".

"The wall falls down?" Matthew asked.

"You have never seen him angry have you?" Alfred smirked. "Trust me when I say that statement was in a literal sense".

"Ah". Matthew made a mental note not to get on Arthur's bad side. He didn't want his ears boxed off; and that now seemed to be the best that could happen to him.

"Step over him. The apocalypse couldn't wake him. However, don't disturb the kittens if you want to keep your health".

Matthew didn't need to ask.

Holding his breath and stepping carefully over the sleeping Prussian vampire (who's name was still avoiding him), Matthew made sure not to touch or even graze a single hair on the kittens heads so as not to motivate a wrathful vampire to pursue him down the corridor. Once he had cleared the sleeping (and purring) heap on the floor, Matthew let out a sigh as he relaxed. Tense didn't describe what he felt as he stepped over them.

"Where are we?" Matthew asked.

"Towards the west side of the castle". Replied Alfred. "Arthur's room is near here". This made Matthew very interested.

"Where? I … I mean … j ... just for reference … in case I should get misplaced". Matthew kept digging the hole deeper instead of just stopping. "I mean … you might not always be around … you'll be doing, well, ghost stuff, and I should know where I can find Arthur so he can help me". Alfred just stood and looked at him, an amused smile on his face.

"Say no more, I'll show you". His words, that were laced with amusement, made Matthew realise that all he had done was dig a hole so deep that the top of his head could no longer be seen over the top. His cheeks burned as he followed Alfred once again, trying his hardest to stop himself from looking so embarrassed. Why couldn't he hide it like everyone else appeared to be able to?

Alfred, for the seventh time that day, stepped directly through the closed door. Matthew gently pushed it open and with delight found that it wasn't a stereotypical; the door didn't creak. Stepping inside, he caught sight of Alfred again, only this time Alfred wasn't looking at him, he was looking at the blonde vampire fast asleep on the bed.

Matthew could see on Alfred's face a look of love. So even after all this time, he still felt the same. A new wave of compassion went through Matthew. What it must be like to be so near someone you love with your heart and soul, only so that they can not see you, nor have the ability to touch you, caress you, whisper sweet nothings and comfort you in your time of need? Matthew couldn't imagine it. He could only come up with one word that he thought even remotely got close to how Alfred must feel.

Torture.

Turning his eyes from Alfred to Arthur, he allowed them to travel slowly over Arthur, despite the guilty feelings he was experiencing. He shouldn't be there, spying on the sleeping vampire without his consent. However, Matthew found that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to take in the vampire without blushing madly and turning away in embarrassment when Arthur turned to look at him, curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

Arthur was resting on his side, the black covers only covering him to the bottom of his chest and flattering his figure as it pooled around him. Matthew crept close to him despite Alfred's protests not to. He knelt down next to the edge of the bed and studied Arthur's face. So tranquil and peaceful! Thinking Alfred's story over in his mind, he found it hard to believe at that moment in time. Arthur showed no history of suffering on his youthful face.

Perk of being a vampire maybe?

Matthew reached over and brushed his hand delicately through Arthur's hair before touching the old fashioned nightshirt. Arthur sighed lightly in his sleep, sending a shiver of excitement up Matthew's spine. He longed to hear Arthur sigh again.

"Come on!" Alfred motioned to Matthew to remove himself from Arthur's room before something happened. Matthew paid no attention to the flapping, highly strung ghost in the doorway.

He felt his heart stop though when a hand gripped his wrist tightly and emerald eyes stared into his own.

"Matthew, what are you doing?"

_A/N: I am sorry for taking so long to update. I just hope I get decent grades for all the work I'm putting into my A2 year. :P_


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"I … I … I ..." Matthew stuttered, his heart racing through a mixture of fear and exhilaration. Arthur knew he had given Matthew a shock; he could feel the Canadian's pulse racing as he kept a tight grip on his wrist.

Arthur looked at Matthew steadily, his emerald eyes both curious and amused. What flummoxed Matthew more than anything was the fact that Arthur didn't even look sleepy. One moment fast asleep, the next wide awake as though he had been for hours.

Sitting up, Arthur released Matthew's wrist, knowing instinctively that he wouldn't run. Matthew's mouth hung open as he blinked at Arthur. Too many thoughts and emotions had tried to be processed at the same time and all that had happened was that his mind had completely shut down. Any chance of a quick come back or a convincing lie was out the window and down the drain. Arthur knew this and smirked.

"Come Matthew, lying is not becoming".

_'My word! He can read my thoughts. I hope he doesn't know that I think he's gorgeous! Oh my …! Stop thinking that! Stop thinking that! He can read my thought! He will know if I think that. Okay, breathe, breathe … those lips are tempting me … OKAY! MUST STOP THINKING THIS NOW! _

_Gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. _

_It's official. I'm screwed!' _

Arthur could see Matthew was talking to himself in his mind. His face expressed everything he was thinking. At times he would look dreamy, other times he would have a look of sudden shock as though he was reprimanding himself for something. Each expression was more defined than the last. Arthur didn't need to read his mind to know that Matthew was thinking about him.

After all, Matthew was an open book concerning emotions. Also, Arthur couldn't actually read minds. He was just good at watching people's faces.

Matthew, coming back to the present, found a delectable smile present on the pale vampire's face. The smile reached his eyes, giving him a breath taking appearance. Matthew found it hard to keep his breathing under control.

"Come here." Arthur said, indicating to him to sit down on the bed in front of him. Matthew did, but sat a short distance away, fearful that Arthur would hear how hard his heart was beating. "Closer." Arthur smiled at Matthew's nervousness as he changed from his seated position to a kneeling position.

While Matthew inched closer, Arthur found himself thinking about how much of a thrill he had gotten to find that Matthew had appeared next to him in the middle of the day, running his hand through his hair and, in effect, drooling over him.

If it had been the aristocratic French pervert he often regretted saving from the Revolution, he would be feeling very, very differently.

Arthur already knew that he was quite attached to the Canadian, and watching him brush stay strands of silk hair behind his ear nervously as he chewed his bottom lip, his enchanting eyes darting in all directions with the exception of his own, Arthur realised, (or simply admitted what he had previously denied), that he loved this young man.

But loving and making a move are two different concepts.

Arthur decided against making a move despite being tempted. He watched Matthew rub his shoulder with a trembling hand while his eyes were fixed on the ceiling. He most certainly wasn't going to make a move. Matthew was mortal; something Arthur wished he had. He wasn't going to take that from him.

Though for a certain pervert Frenchman, the lack of a 'mortality' was a bonus, and the reasons for this as far as Arthur was concerned were obvious.

"Are you scared of me?" Arthur asked, causing Matthew's head to snap round to look at him.

"No". Came the weak reply.

"Then why do you sit so far away from me?" Arthur asked.

"I … it's not that I'm scared of you … it's just … I encroached on your privacy. I'm ashamed of myself for giving in and doing it."

"Giving in?" Arthur's brows furrowed for only a moment before remembering that he recognised lust in Matthew the night Ivan had attacked them.

The fact that Matthew liked him back though didn't change his mind. Matthew was sacrosanct. Also, he would die before the century was out; Arthur knew he would see out many more yet.

Matthew turned scarlet at his own words. Why had he come out with them? Was he hinting without really realising it? Much to his relief though, Arthur dismissed it.

"I'm not angry". Arthur motioned him to come closer still. "You strike me as a curious young man with a lot of questions. Why don't you ask one? I will do my best to answer."

Matthew had one question, but how to cover up it's origins? He couldn't say, 'hey, I got into a conversation with a ghost who said you had a thing and that your uncle happened to be that mad Russian who is chasing us'. Bad way of going about it from a logical point of view, and on top he wasn't to sure how Arthur would take to having a executed love interest dragged back to the front of his mind.

"I heard a story when I was younger that influenced me to live in England. It was about a prince that was murdered by his uncle so his uncle could ascend to the throne. It's just that this is a castle from the same time the story was set in, and when you spoke to your friend you said you owned it. It's probably nothing, just a tired mind making things up but …" Matthew stopped when he looked up from his hands and saw Arthur's face. It wore an expression of shock.

"How?" Arthur blinked.

"Arthur?" Matthew asked, grateful for not bring Alfred in who had in all pretence, disappeared.

"How much do you know?" Arthur asked.

"Not much, just that there was a prince, an only child, who's uncle tried to kill him for the throne."

"You've changed your story."

"No I haven't."

"Yes you have, you said he did kill the prince in the first, but now it's tried."

"Different versions. Some say he was killed, some say he wasn't. But the uncle did ascend to the throne. Married the prince's mother after her husbands death as well, but she died in within three days."

Arthur shot forward and closed the distance between them both, his hands pressing against Matthew's head as he looked Matthew deeply in the eyes. "What happened to my mother? Matthew, please tell me! What happened to her?"

Matthew stuttered his response. He didn't know. Alfred hadn't told him. "So it was you. Arthur, how did you survive?" Arthur looked him up and down before his response.

"I can show you."

"How?"

"Memories. Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

Brushing the Canadian's long, silk blonde hair back from his face, Arthur questioned himself why he had so willingly worn his heart on his sleeve this time. Usually he was an impenetrable wall. Maybe it was because he felt that he had found someone who he could open himself up to. He had never told anyone about his past, not even the other vampires he had at first invited into his home for company and found that he had gradually warmed to.

Arthur rubbed his finger tips lightly against Matthew's temples, making Matthew's cheeks flush. "Ready?" He asked.

"As I'll ever be." Matthew replied.

Matthew was amazed at first. He didn't have to imagine it happening, he was watching it happen. He was stood looking at the lake, that all important lake, where Alfred had first spoken to Arthur and nearly provoked Arthur into making him a murder victim. However, his amazement was short lived.

_Matthew watched as a horse trotted into view and went down towards the lake. He watched a fatigued Arthur struggle to get off the horse. He ran to Arthur's side when Arthur fell to his knees, exhausted. He tried to talk to him, saying his name and asking if he was fine, but the Arthur in front of him didn't stir with his words. Matthew realised that he couldn't communicate; all he could do was watch. He watched reluctantly as Arthur grit his teeth and stood back up to his full height before staggering down towards the waters edge. Matthew stayed where he was as his eyes followed Arthur's progress before he decided to follow and stay with him, to make sure he saw everything. This could be a one off time this happens; to be able to see something instead of hearing about it. _

_Matthew looked over his shoulder to see Ivan emerge from the tree line, silently. He turned to look at Arthur. Arthur was stood unaware of the development, his gaze cast out over the lake, his thoughts else where. _

_Matthew, chilled and horrified, watched Ivan try to kill his nephew. He saw Arthur fall to his knees, the saw the taunting, the soundless calls for help, Ivan walking away, everything. Then, a new character appeared on the scene, taking Matthew by surprise at how he just appeared. The young man looked Asian by origin and though very slender, gave the appearance of being very powerful. Matthew's breath caught in his throat as he watched the Asian lean down and sink his fangs into Arthur's neck. Arthur was unconscious at the time, his loss of blood already great. The Asian worked fast as a knife appeared and made an incision into his hand. The vampire clenched his hand into a fist, causing the blood to drip down into Arthur's mouth. The Asian vampire lifted Arthur's now still body up to help the blood to go down his throat. After a few minutes of this, the vampire was confident enough of his blood had been given to the fallen prince and, withdrawing his hand, quickly bandaged it. _

_Before the vampire could pick Arthur up and carry him into the forest like Alfred said he did, (Matthew was sure he couldn't see Alfred in all of this because Arthur couldn't), Matthew studied Arthur's face. Arthur would always remain that ashen, ghostly looking colour. _

_The scene changed suddenly on him, confusing him to begin with but by quickly adjusting to it, he recognised that he was now stood in the forest. It was twilight and as he looked at his feet, he found Arthur laid out on the floor, asleep and breathing. The Asian vampire was sat across from him, watching the prince carefully, his hand still bandaged. _

_As Arthur started to come around, the Asian vampire continued to sit and watch. Arthur blinked several times before trying to get his hands and feet beneath him, blinking stupidly at the ground as he realised he was resting on leaves and dirt. _

"_How do you feel?" Arthur looked up, his emerald eyes wide and his face questioning. "Name's Yao." _

"_Arthur." Arthur replied, his eyes never leaving Yao as he sat up. _

"_Are you feeling better?" Yao asked again. _

_Arthur's hand went to his stomach. "Yes, thank you." Arthur brushed his tongue over his teeth when he found it odd to talk. He found fangs. _

_Yao smiled. "It was a close run thing. A minute later and you wouldn't be sat there looking at me in shock."_

"_I'm … I'm ..."_

"_A vampire, yes." _

_Arthur ran a hand through his hair, trying to buy himself some thinking time. "What does this mean?"_

"_It means you now drink blood instead of eating food, you stay out the sun light and your complexion will remain forever pasty."_

"_Sarcastic bastard." Arthur mumbled to himself. _

_Matthew watched Yao train Arthur in how to be a vampire; how to hunt, how to fight, how to hide from the sunlight; and Arthur picked it up fast. Over the decades, Arthur honed his new skills and even grew to like Yao. Everything went splendidly until all the men in one village chased after them in an area of woods they did not know well. _

_As they ran through the woods, each ducking and weaving through the trees in a hope of loosing their pursuers, Yao became caught in a deer trap. Their pursuers were not far behind. _

"_Yao!" Arthur exclaimed as he slid over in his attempt to reverse the direction he was running in. Clawing at the ground, Arthur got his feet back beneath him and ran back to Yao, Yao all the while waving him off. _

"_No, you fool! Run! I'll distract them. You need to hide. The sun will be up in the matter of minutes!" _

"_Not without you! I don't know what I will do." Arthur argued, the fear of having to survive by himself weighing heavily on him, but not as heavy as the loss of his friend. _

_Yao stopped hissing at him to run and suddenly calmed to an abnormal level for someone who moments before had been in a raging temper. "Arthur – if you stay, they will get us both, and they will kill us both. Please, run."_

_Arthur was about to protest when a hunting hound appeared a short distance away and Yao gave him a hard shove to set him off running again. Arthur ran, tears stinging his eyes, away from the scene. Matthew found it hard to keep up. The prince was swift on his feet. In the distance he could hear the shouts of men and the barking of the hunting hounds. _

_Time was an ever increasing illusion in Arthur's memories as one moment Matthew was chasing the fleeing prince through the woods and the next he was stood in a crypt of a church. Relics were scattered around the room and the fear of intrusion was negligible. Arthur was sat in the corner, unmoving, his cheeks wet and his eyes unblinking. He was completely silent. Matthew longed to reach out and comfort him, but he couldn't. He could only stand and bear witness. Arthur had grown close to Yao, and they had been so close to safety. _

_Eventually, Arthur's eyes closed and he started to sleep, a deep sleep that doesn't allow one to dream. The scene changed again to what Matthew presumed to be even more decades down the line. Arthur was stood next to him, his head tilted up and his hair fallen away from his face, his eyes scrutinising what was once his home. _

_The castle was the same as when he had left it, though the wilderness that surrounded it had been encroaching across the grounds for decades, leaving lush vegetation that would be incredibly hard to get through. Obviously Arthur at some stage had reclaimed the grounds. None of the vegetation was currently present outside the castle. The grounds had seemed pretty clear when he had arrived in a less than stylish way. _

_Matthew stuck to Arthur like glue as he went back into the castle. He watched how Arthur moved from room to room, an expressionless face forever present. Arthur dragged dust covers off furniture, causing thick dust clouds to raise into the air, making him cough. He spent the best part of the night walking from room to room, his eyes exploring, reliving his childhood in his mind. Sometimes, he could hear voices of the past come back to haunt him; his mother's, his father's, Alfred's._

_Matthew was amazed at how Arthur appeared untouched by the history that his home would have brought back to him. As the sun was rising though, Matthew glimpsed the upset. As the sun started to poke over the trees, Arthur found his room. He opened the door and stepped in, his eyes travelling across everything, untouched since the day he left it. Nothing had changed. Looking out the window, the first weak rays of light illuminated his face in an orange light before he moved away and took the bed cover to cover the window with._

_Satisfied that no other light was going to get in, Arthur curled up on his bed. Lying on his side, his head resting on his arm and a hand up by his chest fiddling with his shirt, Arthur allowed a single tear to escape. _

_Matthew sat on the edge of the bed and followed the single tear with his eyes. It then struck him what the tear signified. _

_Everyone he knew was dead. _

He was alone in the world.

Matthew felt Arthur go limp and slump backwards in his arms, the vampire's hands falling away from his temples. Matthew opened his eyes to find Arthur's eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. Matthew felt waves of guilt travel through him, realising that Arthur had drained himself of energy in showing him his past.

"Arthur … Arthur!" Matthew gently shook him. Arthur groaned lightly and tilted his head slightly to the side. Matthew laid Arthur back down onto the bed, moving his legs carefully so not to hurt him before sitting back and watching the British vampire closely. Arthur's chest rose and fell, giving Matthew a sense of relief that he was ashamed to be feeling. His curiosity caused this. He was responsible.

"Arthur? Please tell me that you are alright." Matthew asked in a whisper, tears forming in his eyes.

Arthur opened his eyes slowly and, upon seeing Matthew's upset expression, smiled and gave his hand a weak squeeze. "No matter how old or experienced I get, it never gets easier."

Matthew could see how much effort it took Arthur to speak. "As long as you're fine." Arthur moved his head slightly to signify he was. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you do that."

"You never made me." Arthur breathed.

"Yes I did."

"No you did not." Arthur challenged Matthew's conscience again.

Matthew fell silent for a few moments. "Bite me."

"What!" Arthur's eyes shot back open. No matter how tired Arthur felt, that comment had taken him by surprise.

Matthew moved in front of him and took his hand. "Please Arthur. Don't think that I'm just saying this. I mean it."

"What part of my life appeals to you?" Arthur asked. "Being immortal is a curse. I could never inflict that upon you."

"Being immortal is only a curse if you're lonely." Matthew combated. "With me … you wouldn't be." Matthew smiled a nervous but genuine smile.

"I can't do it." Arthur whispered.

"I simply can't do it."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Someone's had a good day." Francis smiled as he leaned over the arm of his chair. "And night by the look of it."

"What?" Arthur questioned, glaring, as he looked up from his book. 'A Tale of Two Cities' by Charles Dickens. That annoyed Francis, especially when Arthur smirked while reading it. What's more, Arthur managed to get it signed before waving it in his face announcing, 'you should know all about the Bastille and Madam La Guillotine!' Francis had never been in the Bastille; but he did know the fear the guillotine struck into a condemned man.

There were times he truly hated that Englishman.

"You're tired. Matthew crept into your room didn't he." Francis smirked, insinuating that he knew what had happened.

"Continue digging Francis, you French reject; I can still see your head."

"You're probably right; you're still much too grouchy to have had your way with that delicate Canadian prize you picked up from your latest outing."

Francis found himself sprawled across the stone floor after Arthur's fist had made contact with his mouth. Before he could recover himself, Arthur had pounced on him, pinning him to the floor while his fist was in the Frenchman's wavy, silk blonde hair. "Do – not – ever – degrade – or slander – that young man!" Arthur growled.

"Touched a nerve have I?" Francis smiled, showing Arthur his blood filed mouth, two of his teeth missing. Arthur found this highly irritating. He had been aiming to knock the Frenchman's fangs out as a form of punishment. By the looks of it, he had missed.

"Giving you a second punch won't bother me, twat!" Arthur tugged harshly on the Frenchman's hair, making the vampire hiss. "In fact, I don't mind giving you a beating at all. I already know the outcome."

"Such a brute. I'm surprised that play thing of yours is still here! If I had been him, I would have run for the hills after spraying myself with garlic perfume." Francis snarled.

"Don't you dare think I would abuse him!"

"You're giving me oh so much confidence in that Monsieur." Francis gave a bark of laughter. "Do yourself a favour; fuck him." Francis leaned in close to whisper something directly into his ear, making Arthur unable to swing a punch he had lined up with his previous words. "He obviously wants it. Why deny yourself him? He's young, beautiful, mortal … and that's the best part. I wonder what his blood tastes like."

Any spell Francis may have cast over Arthur's thoughts by voicing and strengthening the knowledge that Matthew was clearly interested was broken. "You're not in a position to tell me what to do!" Arthur snapped. "What's more, if you so much as lay a finger on him I will see to it personally that you swing from the tower by your fucking foot as the sun rises!"

That gave Francis the answer he needed. Arthur was torn, racked with indecision. To see the oh so clever and confident Prince Arthur Kirkland floundering was more delectable and exquisite than any blood he had ever drank, or any wine he had tasted before the revolution.

Arthur, despite having been distracted by the Frenchman's vulgar, though tempting words, had not released his hold nor relinquished his position on the Frenchman, meaning that Francis was still pinned to the floor. The two vampires were so caught up with the other that neither realised that Matthew was stood horrified at the side of the room, just in from the door. The Frenchman's words stuck fear into him, not to mention humiliation.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and guided him back out the room. Matthew found himself face to face with the Austrian aristocrat. The same melancholy expression was present on his face as he had witnessed before, though his eyes shone with a little more life.

"That was inevitable." He spoke slowly, defining each word.

Matthew blinked. "Pardon?"

"Francis and Arthur have never been friends. They take every opportunity to wage war with the other. You were merely a weapon there, used by Francis of course." The Austrian waved a hand through the air dismissively. "You should dismiss all you witnessed."

"But … I feel humiliated."

"You get use to it after a while."

Matthew stared, stunned. "Forgive me ..."

"Roderich." The Austrian filled in.

"... Roderich." Matthew gave a small smile in thanks. "But can you be seriously telling me that I can expect to be humiliated on a daily basis here?"

"As long as Francis can use you as a weapon against Arthur, yes."

"Is it that obvious?" He asked, his cheeks aflame.

"Gilbert saw you appearing from Arthur room. It goes without saying that insinuations will be made." Roderich said unemotionally. "I take it by Arthur's reaction, which history has proved to be mostly genuine, that nothing happened."

"Yeah, nothing happened." Matthew hung his head, though only slightly, regret present in his mind. Should he have pressed harder?

"You seem disappointed, young Matthew. Gilbert did say he saw you enter."

"What? He was awake?" Matthew felt violated. The Prussian had tricked him _and_ followed him? Wasn't that illegal?

A crash, a bang, and a yelp from a wounded Frenchman all made Matthew feel a little better. When it was followed by further noises all linked to destruction, Matthew began to smile, especially when the Frenchman pleaded for mercy. It wasn't that he was malicious, it was because Arthur was acting as a one man demolition company to restoring the last remain traces of the Canadian's dignity.

"I'm not one to stand in the way of love." Roderich told him. "I took you out that room to save you from being further humiliated, not to mention that their arguments always end up in a physical fight. As a guest, you should not have to bear witness to it, no matter how unintentional it was." With this, Roderich turned and walked away. Matthew couldn't even make out the sound of his foot falls on the ground and found himself thinking about how odd and detached, (cold maybe), the Austrian was. What an odd character! However, Matthew reprimanded himself for thinking that. He had been nothing but polite and had even helped him without actually needing to.

Hearing no more sounds coming from the next room, Matthew decided to venture close to see if it was all over. He knocked decisively on the door before calling Arthur. Arthur opened the door, but only a fraction of what it could have gone to. He was clearly hiding what he had done. Francis wasn't dead though; Matthew could hear him moaning ever so quietly. By the sounds of it he never learned.

Before Matthew had even asked a question, Arthur had slid through the door and indicated for Matthew to follow him, thus leading him away from that room. Neither mentioned how they had woken up that morning. Arthur had been quite surprised to find Matthew still there, sleeping in his bed under his sheets, laying very close to him. Matthew hadn't intended to be found to have slept there; even by Arthur. His plan had been to spend the rest of the day and, when twilight set in, to move back to his own room, leaving Arthur none the wiser that he had remained. Arthur waking up before him though had ruined that plan.

"Arthur, I feel quite hungry. Maybe there's some food around I could have? Do you all eat at the same time? I can wait." Matthew spoke nervously. Arthur kept walking as he talked.

"No, we don't eat meals like families. We don't even eat meals. Remember, we're vampires." Arthur smiled. "I've never known a vampire to get fat on blood. We drink when ever we feel like we need it."

"Oh! So … what do I eat?" Matthew asked both puzzled and a little worried.

"What do you think of wine?" Arthur asked.

"Not the starchy food I had in mind." Matthew admitted, making Arthur laugh.

"We have food. We have it around for appearances, just in case people do stumble across us and we have to try to act human and less like creatures of the night. Like I said, purely appearances."

"Do people stumble across this place?"

"Not as yet. My spells seem to have worked." Arthur replied in a matter of fact way.

"Spells?" Matthew stopped and looked at Arthur full on.

"Yes, I practice magic." Arthur stopped and smiled. "You don't? Oh! Here's me thinking everyone did." Matthew could tell that he generally thought that. "I must show you my collection of spell books at some time." Arthur continued to walk. "You never answered my question. What do you think of wine?"

"I like all that I've tried." Matthew answered honestly.

"Then I must show you our collection. There are some that collectors would kill to get their hands on because of their age alone!" Arthur's eyes shone at being able to give Matthew something he might like that was materialistic. He witnessed the Canadian's eyes widen with amazement.

"You would let me drink that virtually priceless wine?" Matthew gasped in astonishment.

"Yes. Why not? You're a guest. I'm most certainly not going to drink it." Arthur shrugged his shoulders of the matter. "Help yourself when ever you want."

Arthur then showed Matthew the room where all the wine was kept. He had been correct in thinking wine collectors would have given their right arm for some of the bottles present. Some were so old they had several layers of dust covering them, and that was only because someone had walked in and moved them at some stage. Arthur encouraged Matthew to pick out one he wanted. Matthew watched Arthur carefully whilst doing this, trying to guess from his expression if he was going too expensive with some of the bottles. However, the more expensive he got, the more happier Arthur seemed to be. Matthew therefore never questioned and happily drank glass after glass of the wine while Arthur drank blood whilst sat opposite him. The blood looked like wine, meaning that it didn't bother Matthew too much as he could convince himself that it was in fact wine and nothing quite as dark and sinister as it actually was.

After that, Arthur had spotted that the sun was about to rise and that he should once more retreat back to bed. Missing sleep, it appeared, was worse for a vampire's health that it was for a humans. Matthew walked with him after convincing Arthur that he needed to know the way to Arthur's room in case Francis decided to pay him a visit in the middle of the night. Arthur readily agreed.

"Hey, Arthur, I would just like to say thank you … for earlier." Matthew felt a little breathless as he struggled to keep his breathing under control. It would settle down again, but when he found himself in the company of someone he liked as well as being intoxicated at the same time, he had always found it a up hill struggle.

Arthur tilted his head to the side and studied him. "What are you thanking me for?" He asked as he straightened himself back up and ran a hand through his hair. The only thing he could think off was when he woke up to find the Canadian fitfully asleep next to him. He thought he was probably being thanked for not booting him out of his bedroom; or onto the floor. The floor got pretty cold at times.

"For defending me against Francis." Matthew physically appeared to retreat into himself with his words. "No one has ever defended me like that before." Arthur genuinely looked surprised. Matthew instantly knew that Arthur didn't even know he had been there at any stage. Arthur had defended him not because he knew he was there, but because he generally cared for him. If he didn't care for him, he would never have reacted in that way.

With a surge of happiness, Matthew leapt forward and pressed his lips to Arthur's. Within seconds, Matthew realised what he had done in that moment and instantly retreated, frightened of Arthur's reaction. He swallowed as his hands in front of him flexed and entwined nervously. What had he done? What _had _he done? He didn't even want to look at Arthur because he was frightened of what he might see. Forcing himself though with what he felt to be super human strength and will, Matthew did look up at Arthur.

"I'm sorry." He murmured. "I don't know what came over me."

Arthur, despite his better judgement, raced forward and crushed his mouth against Matthew's, wrapping his arms around him so to get better purchase. Matthew found himself falling backwards onto the bed, Arthur going with him, never once breathing the kiss. Matthew's heart hammered away in his chest while Arthur's remained still, the only sign that Arthur was reacting to the events was by how he pressed the Canadian for entrance to his mouth. Matthew gave it willingly enough, allowing Arthur to explore, to map out his mouth and extract moans of pleasure from him.

Matthew decided to flip the tables on Arthur and flipped them both over so Matthew was on top. The kiss had been broken and both were left breathing heavily. Matthew propped himself up on his elbows so his hands could travel Arthur's face, tracing every line, every distinguishing feature. Arthur never opposed him, his own hands rising, one brushing through Matthew's hair while the other glided smoothly across his forehead before cupping the Canadian's cheek. Matthew's hair was falling into his face, giving him an angelic look. He didn't voice this. If he had, he would have found Matthew thinking the exact same about him.

Suddenly, after that expression of extreme passion, both broke apart, Arthur remaining on the bed while Matthew took off to the far corner.

"I have no experience." Matthew commented.

"Me neither." Replied Arthur as he shook his head side to side, silently cursing himself for getting himself trapped in a hole like he had done.

"What do you mean you don't have any?" Matthew pressed a hand to his chest where his heart was, trying to calm himself.

Arthur looked up at him. "Oh come now, you must be able to guess why."

"You mean … you're a virgin!"

Arthur sprang off the bed and clamped a hand across Matthew's mouth. "Don't yell it for everyone to hear! That French twat will never let me live it down and quite frankly it's none of his business."

Matthew suddenly remembered Alfred's conversation with him. He had intended to show Arthur how much he loved him that night, but because Arthur didn't want either of them to get hurt, nothing had happened. Had Arthur always held a belief close to his heart that he would be betraying Alfred if he fell in love and allowed himself to be loved.

"Was there someone you loved centuries ago that you think you are betraying by falling in love again, and by allowing yourself to be loved?" Arthur stared horrified at him, his reaction making Matthew continue, confident that he was right. "How many have you pushed away at the last minute? How many have you felt that you could be happy with, but instead of happiness, you chose to lead your life of seclusion and self-isolation?" Arthur tried to form words, but none would come. "Don't push me away like you have done the others, who ever they may be. Please, let me be the one to love you." Matthew pressed his lips to Arthur's neck in an attempt to prove that he was sincere. Arthur tilted his head back and looked over the Canadian's shoulder, tears forming in his eyes.

"Matthew, I want to ..." Arthur blinked and a single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek. "... I really, really want to … but ..."

"But what?"

"I … I can't … I really can't!" Arthur violently tore himself away from Matthew and hugged himself as he crossed the room.

"Arthur!" Matthew chased after the distraught vampire, gathering him back into his arms and holding him close.

Arthur fought to get away, but now the tears were falling freely and he lost any power he had that could have torn him once more away from Matthew. "Please Matthew … please …" he begged, "don't make me. Please don't make me. It would just hurt us. It would just hurt us." Arthur hit Matthew with clenched fists. They were weak and purely a sign of being distraught.

"I won't make you do anything that you don't want to." Matthew, in the back of his mind, found that comment amazing. He had always pictured that it would have been Arthur to have spoke those words, not him.

"But you do! You do! You make me love you! I don't want to, but I do! Love only leads to pain. Love only leads to anguish. Why do you make me love you Matthew? Why?"

Matthew found himself lost for words. He was quite glad he was intoxicated in this situation. Normally he would have fallen to pieces. The only thing that seemed to be holding him together under Arthur's child like gaze was the alcohol.

"Love doesn't need to be only pain and anguish." Matthew went back over every book he had ever read that was centred around romance. "It's supposed to be about joy, laughter, satisfaction, not all about inflicting or causing agonizing heartache and torment on one another. Pain is included in love; but it's not the only thing that love can offer."

Arthur shivered in his arms. Matthew could feel him sliding down and instead of going against it, went with it and gently lowered both of them to the floor. Arthur had stopped fighting to get away by this time. "Why do I fall in love?"

Matthew was struck by the naivety of the question.

It was the naivety that made it painful.

"Everyone does." Matthew answered.

Arthur shook his head violently from side to side, making Matthew take it in his hands to stop Arthur from hurting himself. Matthew found his words die on his tongue as he looked at Arthur. He could feel Arthur trembling.

After a few minuets, Arthur began to calm down once more and become still. Matthew helped Arthur get into his bed. He had a feeling that if he left the vampire on the floor, he would have remained there for the rest of day (and maybe the night). Arthur looked grey, drawn, defeated, as he laid on his side with his knees curled in and his fingernails resting on his lips. Matthew laid down next to him without invitation and pulled the cover over them both. Arthur gave some weak resistance. He was torn between having the Canadian there to comfort him, to whisper how much he loved him, to finally have something that his heart desired; or to push him away and to continue in his life of seclusion. He wanted warmth and comfort. He also didn't want to be abandoned.

Death was cruel.

Matthew could feel Arthur settle down in his arms and in a short time sense that he had fallen to sleep. Matthew took his chance to study the vampire. For the first time, centuries of loneliness and isolation shone from him. His fear of commitment went hand in hand with his fear of being abandoned. Matthew could understand why Arthur didn't want to commit himself to him. He had had it explained to him the night before. He was mortal. He wouldn't see the century out. Arthur was right. He was going to abandon him, though not out of choice.

What an unfortunate set of circumstances had lead Arthur to break into his apartment instead of his neighbours, or those on the next floor up, or the floor above that. If they had never met, this wouldn't be happening. Neither of them would have captured the others heart; neither would be stabbing the others heart with a shard of ice.

Just as Matthew felt sleep finally tugging at his exhausted body and active mind, Alfred appeared. He looked at Arthur with such sympathy that it made Matthew want to cry.

"You know Matthew," Alfred spoke calmly, "the reason that I am still here is because Arthur is not happy. Ever since my death he has lived in a state of melancholy. Even now after the centuries have past, he still won't commit to anyone through fear of being disloyal to me. I wish he could see me so I could tell him to move on."

"You're touched though." Matthew said quietly. "I can see that much."

"Naturally. But after a while it no longer feels like a compliment and more like a curse. You know what all the men he's had an interest in romantically over the centuries had in common? They look like me. Even you. I just wish he would act on what he feels and move on. You can't hold on to the past forever, though Arthur defiantly is trying."

"So you don't mind me intruding and trying to achieve what you once had?" Matthew asked stunned. In the back of his mind, he had always felt that he was insulting the ghost for wanting Arthur to be besotted with him.

"No. I rather see him happy than alone and miserable."

"That is very considerate of you." Matthew yawned as sleep tugged once more at his eyes.

"I'll let you sleep. Please Matthew, make him happy. I don't think I'll last another century of watching him suffer."

Matthew said that he would try to make Arthur happy. "It won't be easy to break through, but I won't give up." Matthew's eyes looked down on Arthur's sleeping form. "Even if I have to get that Frenchman you hate to turn me, I will. You've done enough suffering."

Matthew looked up to find Alfred gone. Sighing, Matthew snuggled in close to Arthur, making sure to keep his grip on the vampire. He was going to eradicate this indecision, this fear of betrayal and abandonment that Arthur had. How? That was a question that he would address the following night after some much needed rest. Until then, Matthew was prepared to just let himself sleep.

A/N: Okay, now I'm moving again! Expect some more very, very soon. In the following chapters expect more Ivan, Feliciano, angst and upset. Oh, also expect a little shock as well. :P


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Arthur's eyes flickered open as he yawned. He could feel that he was in an rather warm and comfortable embrace, but at first it never registered as amounting to anything. Why should it? He was comfortable, warm, dozy, Matthew was laid next to him …

Oh shit.

Arthur's eyes shot open as adrenaline raced through him. What had happened? He couldn't remember what had happened! His breathing became heavier as his mind started to scream at him to escape from Matthew's embrace and to put some much needed distance between them. Why was the Canadian sleeping there? Again!

Arthur began to thrash and twist, waking Matthew to the point that, half asleep, he released Arthur, allowing him to launch himself out of the bed and across the room. Eyes wide and nearly, though not quite, feral, Arthur stood bent slightly forward as he fought to regain his breathing. Matthew, now fully awake, laid staring at Arthur in surprise before removing the covers from his waist and climbing out of the bed.

"What happened last night?" Arthur asked, his voice low and hinting at being slightly dangerous.

"What happened …?" Matthew asked, surprised that Arthur didn't have any physical signs like discomfort around his eyes. He was also surprised Arthur didn't remember his confession.

"Yes, what happened?" Arthur's face darkened, expecting the worse.

"Nothing happened." Matthew told him, his hands raised up to his chest in a gesture of surrender. The darkness instantly lifted from Arthur's face, but his suspicion remained.

"Nothing … happened?" Arthur wanted desperately to hear those words again. It never occurred to him to see if he was still fully dressed and missing no articles of clothing.

"Yes!" Matthew genuinely thought that he had made some progress the previous evening with the vampire. Arthur loved him, but was scared about betraying Alfred despite the old boyfriend being long dead and in the ground (minus the fact that Matthew had been having conversations with him).

Arthur was a strange young man. Well … old man, but looked young. Matthew shook his head. Convoluted logic overload!

"Why are you shaking your head?" Arthur asked, wondering what Matthew was thinking.

"I'm thinking about what you said." Matthew hazard and chose his words carefully.

"What did I say?" His voice giving the impression that he was good humoured and in his comfort zone again, but an undertone of both fear and anticipation remained.

"You said you that I made you love me and that love will only lead to pain." Matthew neglected the main point that put his heart in a clamp, _'why do I fall in love?' _

"Leave."

"What?" Matthew asked, thinking he had misheard. He didn't think he had heard correctly because it was such a massive jump. There was no build up to it, no cumulative process, nothing that he had said in his perspective could have made it a natural progression in their conversation.

"I said leave." Arthur repeated, his eyes on the floor. He couldn't even look at Matthew as he said the words.

"Arthur." Matthew stood stunned.

"I SAID LEAVE!"

Matthew held his breath for a moment. His heart felt like it was fighting its way out of his chest, trying to fracture and break his ribs in its desperate escape attempt. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing mind.

The most dignified response he could think of was to turn and leave silently.

Arthur watched Matthew walk away. As soon as Matthew was gone, Arthur fell to his knees, his shoulders trembling as tears he fought to prevent from falling fell. His heart screamed for him to follow, to tell him he had only said what he had said in the passion of the moment, to beg his forgiveness and to tell him not to take his words so seriously next time. Arthur hadn't meant the things he had just said, and the salty tears that cascaded down his ashen face proved that he wasn't cold at heart.

Unknown to him, Alfred stood next to him, looking down on his trembling, weeping form. He watched Arthur call for Matthew, his arms out stretched as if that would bring the absent Canadian back. He also watched his arms fall back to his side and his head drop in defeat, a few shaky breathes and a snuffle emitted. Swallowing hard, (as if trying to swallow grief), Arthur raised the cuff of his shirt to his eyes to try to dry them, only to find those now absorbed tears were replaced with new ones; ones that fell silently without provoking him into choking and wailing after what he had lost.

"Oh Arthur, do you ever learn?" Alfred asked as he knelt down next to the vampire, his hand going through Arthur as he tried to brush a hand innocently through his hair in a comforting gesture. "For you … I will talk to him". Alfred spoke, knowing full well that Arthur couldn't hear him. If he could, he was pretty sure he would have given him an earful. If he could touch him, Alfred was pretty sure he would have slapped him for being so stupid and pedantic. "You fool. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?" Alfred asked as he rose and walked out the room after Matthew, sparing the distraught vampire a quick glance before disappearing down the hall after Matthew.

"Oh god …" Arthur muttered to himself over and over. "Matthew … Matthew please come back! Matthew!" Matthew couldn't hear him as he was at that moment stalking past Gilbert, who was giving him a peculiar look.

"Hey, Canuck, where you going?"

"Home." Matthew shot back.

"Really? Send us some beer."

"I was told vampires don't drink."

"Ha! You forget, I'm not just an ordinary vampire, I'm an awesome vampire, and awesome vampires drink beer. I don't want just any beer by the way. I want German beer. That's the best beer! None of that crap, bullshit beer!" Gilbert smiled and his crimson eyes flashed with amusement. Matthew looked at him but found it hard to make himself care. "And don't listen to that boy friend of yours. He drinks alright. Not more than me of course because that would just be unawesome, and if I can't be awesome and walk with an awesome swagger, then life isn't worth living, for me or for my fellow blood sucking friends."

"Arthur's not my boyfriend." Matthew spoke softly, the words sounding empty and hollow.

"No way!" Gilbert exclaimed loudly, his smirk threatening to out grow his face. "He's besotted with you. Fuck a duck if he's not interested. If you're leave him, then I'm not happy. Have you seen that man cry! Where does it all come from? Arthur crying and me with a damp shoulder is not awesome. I'll have to keep him away from the whisky." Suddenly a yellow bird appeared out of the albino white hair and started chirping loudly. "Why do you always chirp like that you yellow fur ball? It hurts my ears!"

Matthew knew why. Alfred was stood next to him.

"Well, I have awesome stuff to be getting on with." Gilbert waved his hand as he turned and started striding down the hall. "Don't forget the beer, Canuck!"

Matthew sighed, grateful to be rid of the idiot.

However, that damn ghost remained.

However, it was certainly quieter now that tweeting yellow fluff ball had disappeared with the crimson eyed Prussian.

"Matthew, please, go back to him. He's a mess. He needs you." Alfred begged, launching straight into what he needed to say instead of beating around the bush. In his opinion, Arthur did enough of that for everyone. He would have got down on his knees, but who has ever heard of a ghost doing that?

"He made himself very clear." Matthew countered.

"What about last night? You said you wouldn't give up!" Alfred protested loudly.

"I didn't count on getting chucked out!"

Prussia stuck his head out of a door down the hall. "Hey, Canuck, do the awesome me a favour and shut up shouting at scots mist! You just look crackers!" The yellow bird perched on top of his head agreed with a chirp before disappearing once more behind the door.

Matthew then realised he must look a real fool for shouting at what every vampire in the place perceived as fresh air. Damn! Who ever said things couldn't get worse, lied.

"Alfred. There is no argument here. I've been chucked out, hence I'm leaving."

"But you can't! If you could just go back and see ..."

"I don't own the place, Arthur does!" Matthew retorted, cutting Alfred off mid-sentence. Alfred looked crest fallen.

"Arthur always acts like this when he's scared. He always shoves people the closest to him away. He's broken, Matthew; I need you to fix him. You're the only one. He regretted his words the moment he said them. All he's done since you walked out the room is call for you, wanting you to forgive his words and go back. Matthew, please, I'm begging you, go to him! Arthur's a jerk at times, but he means well. He's always meant well."

Matthew felt his anger soften to the point where he felt stupid for marching off as he had done. He had meant to leave as well. All that now seemed irrelevant though as he went running off back the way he had just walked and flung Arthur's door open to find the vampire curled up on the floor, trying to tear his hair out, cursing himself.

Matthew dragged Arthur up off the floor with as much force as he could muster, hoping that his sudden re-appearance and contact with him would make Arthur snap out of his destructive mind set. It worked to a degree. Arthur stopped cursing and muttering about himself and stared at Matthew, disbelief etched across his harrowed face. So many had walked out on him and never looked back after similar words he had spoken to Matthew. Matthew though had been the only one to come back.

"Matthew … I … I ..." Arthur choked on his words.

"Apology accepted." Matthew hugged him tightly, saving Arthur the super human effort of apologising. "Come now, dry these tears." Matthew dabbed his cuff over Arthur's cheeks. "I'm still here."

"What made you come back?" Arthur asked in a whisper.

"You."

A/N: Soot: Aww, Matthew you are so sweet.

Matthew: *blushes*You've noticed me?

Soot: Of course. So has Arthur.

Arthur: Of course I've noticed him you bloody fool. He's lived with me under the same roof before.

Matthew: So … so … I'm not invisible to you?

Arthur: Of course not you silly, (but not so little), fool.

Matthew: So why do you always mix me up with Alfred?

Soot: Ever consider that it is Arthur's way of getting you to notice him? The English have always had issues with their emotions outside anger, frustration, contempt and simple happiness. I know, I'm one of them. ^_^

Arthur: Don't you think you've done enough damage yet? *cheeks aflame*

Soot: Nope! There's more on the way. :) Okay, I'll take a hint, I'll shut up now.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Ludwig stood outside the Italian's door, a little unsure of how to conduct himself. It seemed that Arthur's infatuation mode was contagious. After finding that the Italian had never truly left his mind since the time they had last met, Ludwig decided to go and see him. He was more interested to see if there was a spark between them than a social visit, and besides, Ludwig was never the social type.

Steadying himself, Ludwig knocked on the door. He had to be admitted still. Again, it was a matter of etiquette. He supposed that when it came to putting a finger on why this code of conduct had arisen, it was because of Gilbert's phase of booting down doors. If there was a door still on its hinges, Gilbert had to run up and boot it down, even if he had no intention on passing through it. Ludwig sighed. He loved his brother, but he was such a pain in the behind sometimes.

Ludwig rocked nervously on his heels. He didn't like to admit that the Italian made him nervous. When there was no answer, he experienced a little bit of relief. However, he hadn't travelled the distance he had and slipped out from under his brother's nose like he had just to turn and walk away at the first hurdle. Ludwig knocked again, and again there was no answer, but there was a smell of cooking coming from the apartment. Ludwig found this strange. He knocked again and waited, but still no answer.

The smoke alarm in the apartment started to go off. Ludwig was stunned at first, but then rolled his eyes at the irony at what he was about to do. Raising his foot, he kicked as hard as he could at the closed door, breaking it off its hinges and opening up the apartment to him. He didn't need to step inside to see that something less than good had gone on. The place was a tip. It wasn't merely clothes on the floor and pots and pans left in the sink; the furniture was overturned, the curtain rail had been pulled down, ornaments had been broken, not to mention the cooking now being on fire. Explains why the smoke alarm had gone off.

Meticulously, Ludwig put the small inferno out before continuing around the apartment. Something didn't feel right. Every sense in him was screaming at him to leave. Something was terribly off, and it extended further than the 'like a bombs gone off' decor.

Walking in and out of the main rooms, Ludwig witnessed that the mess extended to them as well. It appeared to have been a pursuit in a small enclosed space. The ornaments that had been smashed looked to have been used as projectiles at some point in their past. Ludwig felt a swell of pride in his chest to think that Feliciano had tried to stand up against who ever had been chasing him. He had always thought that the Italian would curl up in a ball in the corner and surrender, possibly with a white flag.

Ludwig caught his reflection in the mirror and quickly ran his hands over his hair to smooth a few stray strands down. This was just one more misconception about vampires; he could see his reflection perfectly well and he had given more than enough people a scare doing it when his fangs were on show. The years had taught him to be diligent. Just as his eyes were about to the leave the mirror, he spotted a shred of paper tapped to the top corner. He frowned before walking forward and peeling the note off and holding it between his fingers.

_My dearest play thing,_

_You didn't think I knew about this dear little Italian, did you? I know more than you think I do. No harm will come to him ... well, some harm may. I can promise nothing. _

_Meet again soon, da?_

Ludwig recognised the handwriting, not to mention that constant use of the word 'da', both in speech and in writing.

Ivan.

His stunning blue eyes opened wide in shock and horror. Ivan had Feliciano. If Ivan had Feliciano, then he knew about Matthew, and if he knew about him, then he knew about Arthur's new found weakness.

None of this was going to be good.

Ludwig raced back out of the apartment and started heading back in order to tell the others the new developments. Unbeknownst to him, Ivan had been watching him all along, holding Feliciano under his arm as a kid would a stuffed toy.

...

"I can get use to this." Arthur commented as he lay with his head in Matthew's lap as the Canadian brushed a hand affectionately through his hair.

_To think it only took you an hour and a half to build up the confidence to do it and to stay still for more than ten seconds. _Matthew thought to himself good humouredly. He looked down to see Arthur smiling up at him, his fangs on show but nothing that provoked fear in Matthew at all. He was now so use to the vampires company and so infatuated with him that the fangs held no horror for him.

Matthew had now learned not to push the vampire too hard. He had a phobia of people getting too close to him as well as having a fierce temper to get rid of them with. Just to see the vampire smiling and relaxed though was reward enough at the moment.

Matthew was prepared to sit for the rest of the night like this, though his body clock was complaining dreadfully about the change from day light hours to night time hours, when Francis burst into the room on the verge of tearing his hair out.

"Francis!" Arthur exclaimed as he jumped up. "What have I told you about bursting into my own personal library?"

"Ludwig's back with a message!"

"I didn't realise Ludwig had gone anywhere." Arthur generally looked surprised.

"Well Monsieur Kirkland, I could hazard a guess as to why." Francis leered, his lips twisting with the impression that he knew everything when in fact he knew nothing. Arthur couldn't help but notice that there was more than a little contempt thrown in as well.

"Don't bother." Arthur glared. "What's this message about?"

"Something that concerns you both. He wouldn't tell me, he says I'm not to be trusted. THAT'S HORRIBLE!" Francis cried in despair. "I mean, I'm a nice guy, I'm one of you, why doesn't anybody trust me?"

"This is a conversation for another time." Arthur sighed as he watched Francis having a crisis. "Hopefully it won't be for a long time either." Matthew felt a little sorry for Francis, but only a little considering he had eyed him up to bite him and had insulted and belittled him all since arriving. What else could he do given a little more time? "The frog's just attention seeking." Arthur declared. "Though I think it's worth seeing Ludwig. The message might be real; after all, this is Ludwig. He wouldn't bother me unless it was a matter of the up most urgency."

Arthur quickly shook the Frenchman to get Ludwig's location from him. He could hunt around the castle all day and not find him. If something was urgent in Arthur's book, it should be met with urgency and decisive action.

Francis whimpered out his location, which was the first room into the castle that now resembled the largest sitting room in England, which was accompanied by bitter complaints that no one loved him and how he wanted to go back to his beloved France again. Matthew could recall hearing all this before. He made a note to himself to ask Arthur if he sounded like a broken record often.

Dropping Francis to the ground, Arthur took off running. Matthew followed, not wanting to be left alone with the Frenchman. He was worried that he was a good actor as well as a pain in the neck to Arthur. He didn't want to be left alone with him if he could help it.

By the time Matthew had reached the room, Arthur was already standing in front of Ludwig, asking why Francis was in such a flap.

Ludwig handed the letter he had discovered over. "I think it's addressed to you." Arthur raised his eyebrows at him before reading it.

"I can see where you get that impression from, Ludwig." He replied before pressing his lips hard together. Matthew could see that he had been dealt a blow, how hard though was difficult to tell. Arthur hid it well.

Francis appeared behind Matthew, giving him a fright while the other vampires had come to see why Francis had been shouting about the apocalypse whilst crying, his actions being dictated by hysteria. Arthur grabbed him by the collar to stop him from tearing around the room. By gripping his collar, Francis dropped to his knees before howling that he didn't want to die. Gilbert watched his brother intensely, his mind spinning around the sarcastic comments he could be making.

"Where did you find this?" Arthur sought control once more as he gripped Francis' collar tightly to stop him from going anywhere while shooting Gilbert a remain quiet or get hurt, the choice is yours glare.

"The Italian's apartment." Ludwig grumbled deeply, angry but not showing it on his face. He also watched his words. He didn't want to let on to Arthur that he had any feelings for the Italian, especially considering his original reaction to Arthur being attracted to a mortal. "I thought it was vital to check up on him as his well being is linked to our guest's." Matthew frowned as he had always thought Ludwig had held nothing but disdain for him before the true meaning of the conversation sunk in. Arthur saw through Ludwig's words, but thought better of stating that he knew and said nothing about it.

"Feliciano?" Matthew paled. "How does Ivan even know about him? If he should know about anyone, it should be me."

"He does know about you ... and how you're Arthur's little love interest." Francis spoke before receiving a punch to the jaw violently by Arthur as a warning to shut up. Matthew physically flinched with how fast the blow had been dealt, but only slightly.

"What would Ivan want with Feliciano?" Matthew braved the question. He wasn't a genius, but even he knew that he was linked in there somewhere. His thoughts went even further to say that if he got him, he got Arthur and if he got Arthur, then what were the rest of this bunch going to do. Arthur's home, Arthur's spells. Did anyone else know how to cast them?

Arthur looked at him, the same conclusion having been reached. Quickly thinking, he ordered everyone to be on guard but to relax. Ivan couldn't find them, and that was that. For the time being they were safe.

Arthur then walked a small distance away before stopping, Matthew coming to stand next to him. "I don't like this. Using your friend against you, I think he's trying to use you against me. Puppetry. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to make us break cover to try to find your friend."

Arthur suddenly shuddered violently. Matthew instinctively reached out and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Arthur, what is it?" He asked, worried as the vampire looked horrified. The horror passed though and was replaced with an expression that Matthew found made his stomach tie in a knot.

Fear.

"Matthew, I want you to hide." Arthur spoke calmly, but his eyes shone with distress and worry. "Hide or leave."

"What ...?"

"Just go! Leave! Run! Don't come back no matter what you hear!" Arthur was becoming desperate by this stage. He was about to grab Matthew and push him towards the dungeons where there was a secret exit that few knew about, he was stopped by Gilbert appearing next to him.

"I don't want to appear scared and unawesome, but that freak that has a bee in his bonnet about you is walking up to the door, and it doesn't look like he's going to knock."

"How?" Matthew breathed, clutching Arthur's arm tightly.

"Run." Arthur commanded before shoving Matthew towards Roderich who grabbed him, knowing what to do.

"Can we break this up please and deal with the raving lunatic now stood on our doorstep!" Gilbert shouted, his face twisted with the prospects of battle, but his eyes giving away that he was more than a little scared.

Before Arthur could shoot anything back, a spine chilling voice echoed around the room.

"Are you going to invite me in, da?"

A/N: Sorry it has taken me so long to update. Mock exams, revision, exams, more mock exams, travel. Yep, been a bit busy. ^^


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